I used to want to check into a hotel and get away from my family when my son was young. I was so overwhelmed at the time that my strongest desire was to be left alone for at least a weekend, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. Remembering this feeling helps me get over the slight case of empty nest syndrome that I’ve been afflicted with. I usually come down with a case right around the holidays when children and families are at the forefront and my own child is too old and too big to have fun with. There are only two small children in my family now – my nephews’ daughter, and my cousins’ son, 8 months and 2 years, respectively, both of whom I adore immensely. And very often I have to resist the urge to go broke spoiling someone else’s children who will never appreciate me for it. I learned that lesson the hard way with my nieces and nephews who have grown into idiotic, unappreciative young adults. Anyway, Halloween is approaching and I don’t have a kid to go to Disneyland’s Annual Halloween Haunt with me, which sucks. I could go with my guy friend but I don’t think it would be as much fun. Besides, he likes blood, guts, and gore on Halloween and I’m totally not into that at all so he’d get on my nerves at Disneyland or anyplace hokey. What I need is a kid to buy big rainbow suckers for, to dress-up in costume with, to stuff with candy, to wow and amaze. I’d save my money and stay home to pass out candy if I thought any kids would show up to trick or treat, but they only patronize one street in my neighborhood – Orange Grove Dr. – because their parents are lazy. This generation’s parents have taken to driving them to one corner of an affluent block, park and walk the length up one side and down the other, trick or treating only at those same houses year after year. Then they hop back into their cars and drive to the mall. The year that I bought my house I went all out decorating and bought a ton of candy, excited over the prospect of receiving trick or treater’s. But by 9pm, after waiting 4 long hungry hours in my Storm from X-men get-up, I drove to Yoshinoya to pick up dinner, feeling deflated. When I returned, I saw three little ones coming down the street in costume. I quickly pulled into my driveway, hopped out of the car and yelled out that I had candy at my house, while running in to grab my bowl of goodies. I dumped almost half of the bowl into their bags. Turns out, they live in the house at the end of my block and, according to their parents, trick or treater’s never come down our street, ever. Ever since then, Halloween has sucked. I still like to dress up but I don’t have an interest in dressing like a whore and getting ogled and hit on by strange men, as many women use Halloween as an excuse to do. I like the tamer version of Halloween – put on some Monster Mash, toss some eyeballs in the punch bowl, and picture me happy in a corny, but clever costume. I’m square and proud of it. I just need a part-time kid who’ll play the role for me during holidays and give me an excuse to be a kid again. I don’t think 9 months of pregnancy, morning sickness, child birth, and full time parenting is worth it, though.
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