Happiness Is A Big Candy Bar

Every year, I have a hard time figuring out what to be for Halloween.

In years past, I have been known to don my full-size Tigger outfit but I stopped doing that when it became obvious that a) I was scaring little kids and b) their parents clearly thought I had mental issues, especially when I started bouncing around on one foot and screaming things like “Oh the most wonderful thing about Tiggers is I’m the only one! Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!”

I can only infer from people’s reaction upon seeing me do this that only children are supposed to dress or act like Tigger, and adults like me are supposed to walk around doing adult things like talking about football and mowing the lawn. But we all know that Tiggers don’t mow lawns!

So this year, I decided to dress up as a tired, stressed out businessman who just can’t stop thinking about work especially because his boss keeps calling him on his cell phone even while he is in the middle of pushing a one year old dragon (Luke) and a three year old Superman (Declan) in a stroller down the street while a six year old Navy SEAL (Sean) and an eight year old cowgirl (MaryKate) sing songs about talking farm animals.

My neighbor Tom (who shall heretofore be referred to as Tom Da Bomb) also brought his two children in the form of a three year old Superman (whose primary super power was an absolutely amazing ability to fall flat on his face every 5-10 feet) and a six year old “half angel, half devil” whose wings kept falling off.

I’m sure we were quite a sight as we worked our way down the street. For one thing, my son Declan (he of the Superman costume) was still a bit wobbly after being sedated the night before for an MRI procedure. With the drugs still in his system, it was rather amusing to watch Declan zig zag his way to each house in a bizarre impression of what Superman would look like if he were in fact three years old and completely drunk off his rocker.

My neighbor Tom has a longstanding Halloween tradition whereby he loads up his Little Tikes wagon with beer for the long house-to-house trek. While in general I think this is a rather spectacular idea, it means that neighbors who I only see but once a year think that I am a drunken lunatic with 4 unruly children since the only time I ever show up at their house is to beg for candy with a beer in my hand. It also didn’t help when they saw Declan, my cute little drunken Superman, zig-zagging his way to their front door.

And there is no denying the fact that when you’re a kid, sugar makes you do very strange things. I wonder what it is about a child’s metabolism that after five Snickers bars, three Kit Kats, one Charleston Chew and four Nestle Crunches that suddenly all of the brain centers handling logical and responsible thought are completely shut down. A better way of saying that is that sugar makes kids become complete and utter knuckleheads of the highest order.

Suddenly, grabbing a half eaten Baby Ruth bar directly from your sister’s mouth while she is in the process of eating it starts to seem perfectly brilliant, just so long as she doesn’t manage to bite down on your fingers.

Jamming so much candy into your mouth that you have to choose between breathing and eating (and choose eating, naturally) seems like a perfectly normal thing to do.

Stealing candy from your one year old brother – an act more commonly known as “stealing candy from a baby” – starts to seem like a good deed worthy of praise and merit.

And making fun of perfectly good neighbors who give you crappy Halloween treats like apples and pencils starts to make all of the sense in the world! After all, if they are going to hand out apples, the least “the bastards” could do is coat them in caramel first.

At one point, Tom Da Bomb and I watched in horror as his son (Superman #2) actually opened the front door of a neighbor’s house on his own – an act which I believe is technically called breaking and entering – because they were taking to long to answer the door. Luckily we caught him before he could use his x-ray vision to find the candy that Lex Luthor had stashed in the house last Halloween.

My attempts to control the situation were hampered by several issues. For one thing, I find that it is never easy to control four children regardless of whether they have eaten more than their body weight in sugar. But, as noted earlier, the sugar certainly doesn’t help. I also find that trying to juggle a can of beer in one hand while pushing a baby jogger with your other hand significantly reduces your ability to respond in real-time to unexpected events. And finally, the effects of beer on adults is not entirely dissimilar to the effects of sugar on children which means that by the end of the night I too thought that howling at the moon for my next Butterfinger bar was a perfectly logical thing to do.

And so, while we started out as a merry band of mutant superheroes, it wasn’t long before the candy and the beer took its toll and caused an “Incredible Hulk” type of transformation. By the end of it all, we became nothing more than an unruly, roving gang of beer-soaked chocolate addicts who would do anything for our next big sugar fix, living a nomadic existence where happiness was determined by the size of our last candy bar.

Luckily, just as we were about to reach a state of total anarchy, Tom Da Bomb ran out of beer. And so, we went home.

Comments

[ann smith]

Sean..........does sugarfree and nonalcohol get the same response? Happy halloween!

[Phil]

Sean, saw your blog over at The Zero Boss. I'll be reading your blog from now on (I use Google Reader). Maybe you'll find something of interest over at my blog? Check out my list of Dad Bloggers, and have fun!

[Mr. Big Dubya]

Stopped in via Zero Boss - like Phil, I've added you to my Google reader as well.

Just an aside - we have a Declan as well.

[William]

Trick Or Treating with beer is always a good thing. I used to have beer on hand at my house to hand out to the parents if the need was there.

[nyjlm]

I'm so glad you wrote to the zero boss, because I surely need that laugh.

[Fred K]

Sean...The laughs, cries, joys, and lumps are all inclusive of being "Daddy".
Yet I must point out that the car dealer got what they all deserve. As for the donut, well it had been offered to me on a visit to "da" Bronx, but it
just kinda got out of hand!! Most important please remember that being a loving, caring, and responsible "Daddy" is only
the foundation for being a
loving, caring, and responsible "Grand Pa". Because you know those apples, pumpkins, munskins,
don't fall far from the tree...

[WEAVERMichael34]

Various people all over the world receive the loans in different creditors, just because it's easy and fast.