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October 26, 2009

Cathie Shaffer The Daily Independent Mon Oct 26, 2009, 10:34 PM EDT

Halloween is Saturday and trick or treat is ... well, whenever it is. The old custom of going out on Oct. 31 has become passe for the most part, with cities setting whatever date they decide they like.

I know some places actually are letting kids ring doorbells on Saturday, while others have upped trick or treat to Thursday. And, of course, there are “bring your kids where it’s safe” events at malls, parks and churches.

Granted, I’m waaaay too old to don a mask and hit the streets, but I think the tradition was much better before it got organized. When I was a kid — heck, when my kids were kids — you donned those costumes, went out at dusk and stayed out until your feet got too tired to walk another inch.

We had a town party when I was a kiddie, put on by the local American Legion post and its auxiliary. The town I lived in was small, the crowd of children less than a hundred, and the prizes for the best costumes were bright, shiny silver dollars — and no one felt bad for not getting a consolation prize.

To tell the truth, the adults enjoyed the party as much as the kids. While the youngsters were walking around in circles in front of the judges, their parents and grandparents were along the walk, drinking cider, eating doughnuts and catching up on all that small town talk.

I’ve walked a lot more miles as a chaperoning adult that I ever did as a begging, costumed kid. I’ve trailed six paces behind my kids, then accompanied my daughter when the grandgirls followed the tradition.

I was even designated the wagon-puller for the youngest grandgirl’s first Halloween experience. Too young to do more than toddle, she still wanted to go with Sisters rather than stay home with her boring Poppy and Nana.

I remember that it was cool and damp, and I believed she gained weight over the evening, because it became harder and harder to pull the wagon as we walked the cul-de-sac behind our house.

The wagon contained one kid and three candy bags by the time we reached home and the ceremonial dumping of the candy.

Experienced parents know how this works. Each kid winds up with a huge pile of candy and trading begins. Older, savvy kids entice younger siblings into trading one “good” candy bar for two or three of the so-so ones, choosing quality over quantity.

Eventually the candy goes back into the bag or bucket, or winds up dumped together in a dish. The worn-out kids to go to bed, and are soon snoozing soundly.

That’s when we big people begin our raid.

It’s easy to justify such behavior. Kids don’t need all that sugar. We’re doing our part to fight childhood obesity. The dentist warned about cavities at the kids’ last check-up.

And besides, we earned a few of those mini-candy bars. If a grandgirl ever catches me with my hand in the treat bag, I’m going to explain that bag of peanut M&Ms; is payment for shivering in the chill, wearing wet shoes, as they went to “just one more house, please?”

And that when she grows up and has kids of their own, she’ll be able to swipe candy at her leisure, too.

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