Halloween Growing Up

While growing up, Halloween for me was the holiday that took the back burner in comparison to others like Christmas and Thanksgiving. As a child, I would dress up with my siblings, and march around our town square heaving plastic grocery bags filled with Dots, Tootsie Pops, Reeses, and off-brand hard candy concealed in colorful plastic wrappers. Our family never invested in any store bought costumes. I attended a ballet school as a little girl with my sisters, so most of my costumes were recycled from old dance recitals. My brothers would typically wear their football pads and cleats. It wasn't that we were lacking creativity as kids, we just associated Halloween solely with gathering as much candy as possible. My family was known as "healthy", so candy was not usually stocked behind our pantry doors next to the granola bars, brown rice, and bananas. We would run around the square several times before the vendors of each booth began to notice their repetitive, candy fiend, visitors. I'm not sure why, but it became a tradition for my siblings and me to spill the contents of our bags onto the living room carpet as soon as we arrived back home from trick-or-treating, and sort the candy. We would gather all the lollipops into one pile, the chocolate in another, and the Dubble Bubble gum was the most prized pile. It was as if we were examining our loot. Candy was and is the best part about Halloween. I love what comedian Jim Gaffigan says about Halloween,  "As a kid Halloween was amazing. You'd dress up like a super hero, bang on your neighbors door, and they give you candy. I do that today and my neighbor wants me arrested." Candy was the only reason I even acknowledged Halloween's existence as a kid.
I also never understood the scary aspect of Halloween. Frankly, I found it utterly repulsive to see my friends with wounds made out of ketchup and dollar store face paint. I saw no point in dressing oneself up as a zombie cheerleader. or a grim reaper other than to make everyone around them uncomfortable. I cannot carry a conversation with someone who has a plastic knife glued to look like it is coming out of the side of their head. I find no enjoyment in being scared, or scaring other people.
I can recall a few years ago, attending a Halloween party with members of my cross country team. Everyone dressed up as a famous person: Ke$ha, Lady Gaga, Miley Cryus, Katy Perry. My sister Katie was Reese Witherspoon, and was sporting a pink knee-length pencil skirt, with heels, and a flowing pink blouse. I went as Roselyn Sanchez from the movie "Rush Hour". In honor of it being Halloween, my friends decided to watch a scary movie. People who know me are aware that I am a baby when it comes to scary movies. I can watch them, but I will be freaked out for days following. My sister is the same way; we can't sleep in a room alone after watching one. Needless to say, we were not too excited about the whole scary movie idea.
Everyone decided on "The Wrong Turn". Apparently that movie isn't scary in comparison to others, but I still hated it. I remember sitting in the basement floor of my teammate's house for ten minutes before calling it quits with the movie. I remember looking around, and noticing that my sister had left the room. I rose and found her sitting on my friend's bed in the next room over with tears in her eyes. I asked her what was wrong, and she replied, "I'm too scared to watch it, and I feel like a baby."

"No! I don't want to watch it either! We can just stay in here."

So we did. We spent the rest of the night watching "My Girl" by ourselves. We ate Pixie Stix, drank Dr. Pepper, and avoided mental discomfort! I'll never forget that night. No it isn't a paramount memory to me as a person, but it's one of my favorites. I don't enjoy memories of Halloween because of how scary the haunted house I attended was, or how detailed the costumes were. Halloween is just another excuse for me to spend time with my family and eat unhealthy foods.