Costumes, hanging out with friends, and sucrose by the kilo. How could Halloween not be the sweetest holiday of all?
Parents see things differently.
For them, Halloween is often less treat and more trick.
In the pre-social-media era, Halloween was still a production—but a manageable one. Parents took their child to the Halloween store that magically appeared every October in some abandoned corner of the mall. Then they spent about an hour watching their kid joyfully select an inexpensive, disposable costume.
Overall, it was a simple parental assignment.
The hardest part was explaining why the costume couldn’t be worn for the next three weeks.
Of course, there were always those parents we simultaneously hated and envied—the artistic ones who made homemade costumes.
Most homemade outfits were lame.
But when they worked, they really worked.
For young kids today, the basic formula still applies: buy or make a simple costume that satisfies the pop-culture gods.
But now you must also satisfy the school’s PC police.
Your child will not be allowed within 100 yards of the school if their costume includes a pretend sword, lightsaber, or anything resembling a weapon.
The real trouble begins when your child becomes cloud-aware.
Once kids discover online shopping and social media, Halloween evolves from a simple holiday into a full-blown lifestyle event. Amazon provides endless costume options, and the focus shifts from trick-or-treating to selfies and Instagram likes.
When a preteen’s self-worth is measured by social media reactions, costume requests become… ambitious.
Your preteen daughter may want to dress like a Kardashian.
Or a Kardashian.
Sorry—I repeated myself.
Fortunately, like Valentine’s Day classroom parties, Halloween also has a developmental expiration date.
Most teenagers become too cool to wear costumes and too lazy to walk around collecting candy. But their love of sugar remains strong, so they simply raid their younger siblings’ stash.
The urge to truly celebrate Halloween returns later—in college.
At that point, parents no longer have to worry about buying costumes.
Instead, they worry about paying the fine for their kid’s public-urination citation.
