Plucky Letters to US soldiers in Iraq

October 30, 2003

Dear Army Guys,

Mark you calendars! Tomorrow will be the first Halloween in 22 years that I have NOT had to go trick-or-treating! Dylan, my youngest child, is now old enough to be allowed to cavort with his fellows amid the neighborhood unescorted by Mom!

FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST, THANK GOD ALMIGHTY, I’M FREE AT LAST!!!

I have come to detest Trick-or-Treating. Okay, maybe it was fun 18 years ago when Robby was four. It got old by the time he was ten. Then it got mildly fun again when Dylan was two and Robby was 13, because by then Rob didn’t want to be seen with me in public, especially when I insisted on wearing my cute pumpkin outfit.

But after about, oh, I’d say the 17th year of accompanying small children as they panhandle from neighbors on cold, rainy evenings, you get tired of it.

For one thing, anybody under 7 is a huge pain in the ass. They always have to go to the bathroom as soon as you are two blocks from your own toilet. Getting the HE-MAN AND THE MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE™ costume off 5 year old Robby in a complete stranger’s bathroom while he yelled, “I GOTTA POOP!” is a precious memory I’d like to forget.

There’s also the tragedy of the broken candy bag. Candy all over the street and 6 year old Dylan screaming bloody murder at his cousin for stepping on it in the dark. If this ever happens to your child, don’t bother trying to explain that Daddy has plenty of candy back at home. The child will wail, “I don’t want THAT CANDY! I want MY CANDY!” and throw a huge fit right in front of God and the neighbor who called the police about your wandering dog last year.

I have found that letting children eat dirty candy off the street is actually not a serious risk. Four out of five mothers recommend it as a mental health supplement, and I am one of them.


Happy Halloween!

Much Love,

--An Army Mom