Tomorrow, just in the nick of time, we will visit our local Kinsey Family Farm to select just the right pumpkins for this year's jack-o'-lanterns. It's a little early for sugar plums, so my boys are dreaming of pumpkin bread and hay rides and apple cannons. (Ok, so is their mama.)
Halloween at our house is much less about monsters and all things gruesome as it is about dreams. Sure, the boys love to put on the goulish masks in the costume aisles. Dozens of times over I hear, "Hey, Mama, look at this!" as they see who can gross out the girl. But when crisp breezes first begin to rustle the treetops, my boys start dreaming. What hero do they most want to be? If they could do anything, be anything, what and who would it be?
Last year I ended up shopping at the Army-Navy store for a flight suit. Andrew wanted to be a pilot on a spy mission. He had a very specific image in his mind of what his costume should entail, as he had envisioned heroic scenes of himself flying over enemy territory time and time again... always returning victorious.
Little Noah wanted to be a crocodile... not a scary crocodile... but a sweet parent crocodile. One of his most loved stuffed animals is a crocodile from his first visit to the aquarium. His name is Alex. Sometimes he is an alligator. Sometimes he is a crocodile. Noah just wanted to be his parent. So we found a silly, soft, plush crocodile/alligator. All night Alex road in Noah's treat bag, taking a peek now and then.
Returning home is the best! After visiting a handful of houses, often receiving thoughtful parcels from some of our close neighbors prepared especially for them, the boys are ready to get back home. It's like Christmas Eve in the fall. We donn our jammies, curl up by the fire, turn on a Halloween cartoon and roast marshmallows. We drizzle melted caramel over apple slices and warm a few mugs of spiced cider. Fuzzy blankets and pillows pile up on the floor. In a few hours, I carry a couple sleeping little boys... full of dreams... up the staircase. And soon... very soon... that same spot by the fire will bring the scent of fresh pine needles, glittering crystal ornaments, stockings in a row... and more little boy dreams.
From our home to yours,
Susan
