My mom would make dinner, and my sister and I would eat it in our costumes at the table. We'd go out with our mom, dad staying home to run candy patrol, and we would zig-zag through the streets to hit up as MANY houses as we could. Every year we were determined to hit even more than the year before, but around 9 pm we'd eventually poop out and turn around.
We always decorated our house the same way. We had a little porch in the front of our house that was just long enough for one string of lights all the way across. We had orange plastic bags with pumpkin faces on them that we'd stuff with newspaper and hang from the rafters, and we had window clings that we put up year after year, my sister and I lovingly peeling them and placing them just right.
It was always a relief to turn the corner and see our house with the same lights and the same decorations and to know I was home. I can still feel the heft of my heavy pumpkin-shaped treat bag as we turned the corner onto our little street and saw our house.
One year, we turned the corner and the moon was just rising over the horizon. It was a harvest moon, those rare, uncanny occurences when the moon is pale orange and about 100 times larger than normal. I remember turning the corner, looking at my house and looking at the moon and going, yeah, this is Halloween.
Do you have any great childhood memories of Halloween? Share them in the comments!
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