My problem is hubris. Hubris and a desire to be liked.
If I’m handing out candy at the beginning of the night on Halloween, everybody gets a massive handful of little Milky Ways and Snickers. I do this partially because of the hubristic confidence of a man who never learns. I never believe the candy is going to run out. At the beginning of the night, I am certain of nothing so much as I am certain of my ability to purchase and distribute the correct amount of candy for an entire evening of trick-or-treating. Handful of mini-bars for everybody? Sure, my friends! There’s plenty to go around.
This leads to the other reason, my frankly pathetic need to be liked. I don’t just want to give out candy, I want to be poplar while doing it. Every street has that one house that’s famous for candy generosity. I want to be the Cool Guy at the Cool Guy House, benevolent in my sugary largesse. Maybe you see where this is going.
By the 90-minute mark, the fear starts to set in. The candy is running low. My generous nature is coming back to bite me. What can I do? Do children like cheese slices? Pennies? Do I even have pennies? Should I kill the lights and lie on the floor lest somebody see me?
So yeah, Halloween. It’s possible that I overthink it. But it’s also one of the most fun holidays around – and not just because the folks on Loch Ness double down on their famous Scottish namesake with spooky Nessie fun.
Halloween has changed over the years. The dimly recalled Halloweens of my youth involved planning. My friends and I had the neighborhood mapped out. The generous candy-givers. The apple nerds. The people who, legend had it, sometimes gave out full-sized candy bars.
The Halloweens of a few years ago were even better. As a dad to a teenager, I remember Halloweens that seem like five minutes ago when it was urgently important to get out to the store to find a costume representing that year’s biggest Disney character or other such cartoon heroine. Doc McStuffins, Rainbow Dash, Moana, the one from Paw Patrol that may have been a pilot – there were some good times and good costumes.
Now my daughter has a homecoming dance on Halloween weekend, and I have my candy distribution plans.
I’m going to try to play it cool. I will tell myself that people like me for my pleasant demeanor and commitment to seasonal lawn decor; I have nothing to prove via candy.
Although if you post me on Insta as the cool house, there could be a full-sized Twix in it for you