It’s less than a week away!
On Halloween night, for one night only, the dead are free to walk among the living!
Oh, the excitement. I can feel it in the air. Candy is plentiful, unlike the North American supply of Nair as college girls everywhere prepare to strip down to their birthday suits all in the name of All Hallow’s Eve.
You go, slutty pumpkin! You do you, girl.
Slut shaming aside, it’s important to remember the children of the North this October 31st. I’m talking about the millions of kids who every year have their freedom of choice for Halloween costumes stolen from them because of Northern October temperatures.
Growing up in Ontario, I know first hand that Halloween can be ruined by Mother Nature and that son-of-a-bitch who gives you raisins instead of chocolate (Oh, I haven’t forgotten you Mr. Kowalski, I never forget my enemies).
When deciding what to be for Halloween, I had to factor a turtleneck and long johns into the decision making process. It wasn’t uncommon for my mother to buy me a costume two sizes too big to ensure my winter coat could fit underneath my witch’s dress.
To avoid having my costume ruined by weather appropriate clothing, I considered anything above 5 degrees Celsius to be “T-shirt weather” and have bravely come down with pneumonia all in the name of collecting what’s mine.
I gave a Meryl Streep worthy performance during the massive shit-fit I threw when my Mom insisted I wear gloves with my costume, or sweatpants under my princess dress. I had artistic integrity. I was a method actor on Oct. 31st. No princess would be caught dead in sweatpants!
We would compromise on three layers of pantyhose and I would confidently leave my house feeling like royalty, only to have the cold air hit me and immediately make me feel like I was going to pee my pants.
Ladies, back me up here. When you have to pee, pantyhose are like a tight hug from the devil himself. You can’t shimmy out of those things fast enough.
I’ve gone Trick-or-Treating in the snow, and I’ve seen many people dressed as Santa Claus knocking on doors for candy, or children wearing balaclava’s dressed as bank robbers. Those kids were the lucky ones; their faces weren’t frozen to the point of facial paralysis. You know how many times I had snot dripping down my face as I smiled at a stranger’s door while Trick or Treating? Too many to count, that’s how many.
We toughed it out. We tasted the salty snot and we kept motoring.We persevered. When I see a kid at my door wearing a cute animal onesie as a costume, my first reaction is, obviously, “Aw,” but my next reaction is to tell them to buck-up, look alive, eat some snot. That’s why my immune system is so strong. Halloween snot. Then I give their parents a disapproving look, and tell them to hit the bricks. Come back when you’re ready to play with the big boys (and girls).