Tricked, and a treat

So Halloween came and went. Honestly it’s terrifying. Utterly terrifying.

Not the decorations and the costumes. I actually don’t mind a wicked fancy dress party. I’m talking about all the kids overdosing on sweets…. at night!  It’s bad enough that my kids have come to expect dessert or a treat as the third and fifth meal of the day, after lunch and dinner. They are still working the post breakfast treat angle, unsuccessfully. I don’t know where they get this behaviour from?

I am constantly trying to remind them that a treat by definition is “an event or item that is out of the ordinary and gives great pleasure”. Out of the ordinary … as in not expected every single day.

And before you say anything, my 85% dark chocolate is technically not classified as a treat. It is an ordinary, expected part of a nutritionally sound, balanced diet, rich in iron and antioxidants, is in no way addictive, and lack thereof does not result in “Moody Monster Mom”. Those reports and unfounded and based on hearsay.

But seriously…Halloween. Surely no self respecting parent would have thought;

“Hey, do you know what would be so much fun?
If we give our kids sweets at night?
No not like one mini KitKat.

No no no, I’m talking like a huge tub of those sour squishy artificially sweetened, artificially coloured jelly things filled with all the additives of the alphabet we can’t even pronounce so it just referenced by numbers and then covered in sugar.

But also, let’s spend enough money on individually wrapped chocolates and sweets to equate to maybe one punnet of Woolies Kiwi fruit and the small half punnet strawberries – on special, so that we can do our neighbours a solid and get their kids on a sugar high too, because hey… what’s better than all the kids getting together and eating sugar?

Dress up! Yass.
Dress them up so scary that they make those Halloween movies we used to rent on VHS tapes look like nursery rhymes, and then when you can’t recognise your own offspring, send them off in the neighbourhood estate in packs to go knock on strangers doors demanding treats.”

At least with Easter they smash all the chocolate eggs before 10am and we have the rest of the day to burn it off.

And so it was, on the morning of 31st October, that I found myself being interrogated by very excited kiddies wanting to know what the plan was for Halloween. Shit sticks. Despite my feelings above, it’s not the kids fault that we have adopted this Autumn-harvesting-pumpkin-carving-scary-dress up-Northern Hemisphere tradition.

I hadn’t made any plans.

Thankfully the pandemic and precipitation played into my hands.
Social distancing saved my arse.
They understood that Mom’s hair would be subject to uncontrollable frizzing if exposed to this drizzly, misty continuous rain.
And, lastly, a quick stop at the Kwikspar to choose their favourite treat sealed the deal. Aiden was so supportive, even referring to it as our very cool Halloween scavenger hunt for treats. (Bless.. they will say anything for sweets right?)
One treat each, so one guess as to what they chose?

A huge tub of those sour squishy artificially sweetened, artificially coloured jelly things filled with all the additives of the alphabet we can’t even pronounce so it just referenced by numbers and then covered in sugar.

And I got to stay in, in my pj’s and slippers, and no frizzy hair.
Tricked, and a treat, perfectly sorted.

Evil Moody Monster Mom.

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