Trick or Treat, Smell My…After Shave?

Ah, the topic of age and trick-or-treating has been in my life a lot these days.  First, I heard the story on the radio last week about Mark Eckert, the mayor of Belleville, IL, who has banned teenage trick-or-treating in his town (as some other cities have done). Although Belleville rarely issues the fine for this, it’s $100 if anyone over 12 is caught trick-or-treating.  I didn’t give the story much attention.  Like the newscasters, I thought, ‘Hah—that would be a tough code to enforce. Will kids be stopped for proof of age? Will they have to carry birth certificates?’ No one’s ever put a limit on trick-or-treating before…stupid law…

A few days later, our French exchange student and her friend, another French exchange student, were thrilled to discover that teenagers trick-or-treat in America, whereas in France, it stops at a younger age.  “We can be a kid again!” her friend announced to me, joyfully.  They put together costumes yesterday and filled their treat bags so full, they will probably still have some candy left next June when they return home…and a lot of happy memories of Halloween to take back as well.

But as I talked to a friend yesterday at a neighborhood Halloween potluck, I decided that Mayor Mark was onto something.  My friend and her husband only allow trick-or-treating for their kids until 6^th grade.  Then the kids can go to Halloween parties as they get older, or to haunted houses, or help pass out candy to the little ones.  “I think it’s creepy when a kid with a moustache is standing at my door with a treat bag, you know?” she said.  “And I don’t want my boys to be one of them.”  Suddenly I was reminded of last year, when I wanted to get rid of all of our Halloween candy, so I was answering the door past 9 p.m. on Halloween night all by myself, and Andy was still out with our youngest, and my teen was at a party…Halloween fell on a week night last year, so lots of working parents got a late start with their kids, and we had many families coming to our door later than usual…and, a couple groups of “boys” wearing ghoulish costumes, who looked like they were old enough to have kids of their own.  It was creepy.  I mean, normally I don’t answer the door to any strangers—and there I was on Halloween night, all by myself, opening my door and handing out candy to tall strangers wearing MASKS!? I turned out the porch light and kept my candy. I can see why single parents and senior citizens get scared, too.

This year, Andy was home, so I didn’t feel as scared—but it was still weird to see kids as tall as Andy (and twice his girth) ringing my doorbell.  Should we put signs on our door that say “No trick-or-treaters over 12”? That’s about as unenforceable as the Belleville law. Or how about one of those wooden height measurers, like they have at theme park ride entrances? Someone could make cute Halloween ones with a scarecrow holding out his hand, or a ghost or witch.  Nah.  Discriminates against kids who grow faster than their peers. Wait—I know.  All the kids stick out their bags and say, “Trick or treat!”– right? We can give treats to the little ones—and tricks to the really big ones, the ones who only trick-or-treat with other big ones. “Tricks” meaning something they weren’t expecting.  Maybe a used classic paperback? Literature on how to write a resume’? Gideon Bibles? A Beethoven CD? By golly, if these kids are going to come to my door years after it’s “cool” to do so, it’s time to give them something different than candy.  And maybe they won’t come by any more.  Or, maybe they will—  to thank me!