Auntie B's Wax

OK, it’s confession time.  I’m about to say something that might cause quite a stir.  Today I’m going to admit to the entire universe that…

I AM THE SCROOGE OF HALLOWEEN

That’s right, I’m just not into it.  I talked to my friend MaryAnn today and told her about my aversion to Halloween and she simply couldn’t believe it.  “I thought you loved Halloween,” she said.  I told her that might have been the case in the past, but these days not so much.

I really want Halloween to be my favorite holiday.  I want to get into the spirit of things (no pun intended), but it’s not in me.

I’d love to make beautiful and scary Halloween treats…

So cute, but so not high on my list of priorities.

I’d love to have an eerie ambiance in my house…

So my style, but so not worth the effort.

I’d like to project an enthusiasm for the season outdoors and give the trick-or-treaters something to be wary of…

These would look so cool hanging from the tree in my front yard. Not gonna happen.

It would be cool if I could give myself a zipper face…

How much would this scare the living daylights out of the kids?

The thing is, as much as I want to put on a show for Halloween it just doesn’t seem worth it for me.  I don’t want to bake.  I don’t want to decorate.  I don’t want to dress up.  I don’t want to answer the doorbell every three minutes and hand out candy to little beggars.

I know!  I’m the Halloween Scrooge!  I’m ashamed to admit it, but it’s true.

The perfect Halloween for me would be if I were the one indulging in chocolate instead of giving it out to other people.  It would be complete bliss if I could spend the night with a really scary movie (not slasher) or to read some Poe in a dimly lit room with ambient music playing softly in the background.  Or maybe burn a single taper candle and fool around with a Ouija board.

So mystical.

I wish the spirits of All Hallows Eve would give the commercialized celebrators a run for their money, floating and moaning in the night air for all to see, forcing trick-or-treaters into their homes to huddle in the corner with fear in their eyes.

See?  That’s me, the Halloween Scrooge.