Cute? Or Disturbing?
Now as the temporary clown's mother, I have to (and will say honestly) that I thought she was adorable (and this is the first time I have ever been able to honestly say anything remotely positive about a clown). During Halloween, I was completely ok with my own daughter embodying the character that absolutely terrified me as a child. But this morning when I downloaded the pictures, I felt very unsettled in looking at the photos. Instead of being a big step in my coulrophobia recovery, I think allowing my precious two-year-old daughter to dress as a clown caused a major setback. No Ringling Bros tickets this year.
The past two years we had been spoiled with unseasonably warm weather on Halloween. We were able to enjoy our annual Halloween-ie Roast outside, while the kids ran amuck. This year, it drizzled all day long, which forced us to bring our normally outdoor party indoors. My husband, the trooper that he is, had to dodge raindrops as he grilled and we partied. Gotta love him.
It ended up working out for the best because it inspired me to transform our basement into a haunted house of sorts for the kids. I hung flashing scary eyeballs and pumpkins on the walls. I cut up Halloween tablecloths into long, large strips and hung them from the ceiling for the kids to pass through. We have a large playhouse in the basement and I covered that with Halloween decor as a haunted house within a haunted house. And of course we played the requisite scary music. All in all, easily 20 children and their parents came by and a fun time was had by all.
Every year, my good friends hand out candy while my husband and I take the girls trick-or-treating, which for us normally only lasts a half-hour or so. My toddler was done with trick-or-treating within a block, so I had to carry her the next couple of blocks. All 32 pounds of her. Those high-heeled, knee-high boots turned out not to be the greatest idea. My four-year-old, on the other hand, sprinted from house to house to get her loot. At one point she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, let out a blood-curdling scream, and ran for Daddy's arms. I thought that maybe she had seen a scary Halloween costume. Perhaps the Grim Reaper? Dracula? A clown? Britney Spears (the Federline years)? Nope. It was merely a dog. A dog dressed up as a princess. I would think the princess garb might have won her over to the canine-loving side, but no such luck.
We spent the next hour or so handing out Halloween candy, and this was my husband's favorite part of the night because he got to perform as Shrek for his girls. And boy does he love to perform.
As each group approached our house, he would exclaim, What are you doing in my swamp??!
If a group of Disney characters or the like were in the mix, he'd state, Attention all Fairy Tale Creatures...
For a good bit, he was eating a meaty bowl of chili while he passed out candy. He often pretended to pour some of the "stew" into the kids' trick-or-treat bags.
He saved his Shrek belches for only those neighbors closest to his heart.
I did recognize that several groups came by our house more than once. Was it because we give out mac-daddy treats? Or was it because of the fascinating entertainment?
After all was said and done, we went through four Sam's Club sized bags of candy. Four. I would bet no less than 200 kids came to our house, the great majority of which were under the age of eight. We live in a new development, and probably 100 homes went up just since last Halloween. It is frightening to think that if the majority of these families remain in our neighborhood over the next five to ten years, all of those kids will be teenagers in our neighborhood at the same time. That is my idea of hell, especially since two in that mix will be ours to worry about. That is one concept that scares me even more than clowns. Because, of course, I was never, ever an unruly, obnoxious teenager. Never ever.
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