OUR FAMILY missed HALLOWEEN TONIGHT ...

... but I didn't MISS Halloween, if you know what I mean.

The only costumes I have seen this fall have been in photos on Facebook.

Not a single spooky decoration in a single yard or business window. No black cats, skeletons, mummies, or vampires.

(The scariest thing I've seen recently was a rather large cockroach in the school library this morning.)

The only discussions over whether or not a Christian should "celebrate" Halloween that I witnessed were also on-line and I wasn't involved.  I just eavesdropped out of curiosity.

Because, this year, I didn't HAVE to do anything about Halloween at all.  It was like it was non-existent.  Call me a Halloween Scrooge, but it was beautiful.

When Caleb and Hannah were real small, they got a kick out of seeing people come to the door but never gave a thought to dressing up and going door to door themselves.  But then, as a new parent, you see a stinking cute lion costume or an adorable little bumble bee and you "just have to buy it". Then you "just have to parade your darling little bee all over the neighborhood and to the homes of grandparents".

And within a couple of years those same kids are now dragging you to the Halloween aisle every time you pop into Target throughout September and October for a new stick of deodorant.  And then you're walking rows upon rows of literally thousands of pounds of sugary candy ... and, of course, a couple of bags end up in the cart because "you can only get _____ this one time of year".  And then you hit the costumes and props and you're trying to let your kids browse a bit while you shield their eyes from every gory or skimpy outfit on the shelf.  (And you're hoping your little boy doesn't ask if nurses really dress like THAT.) 

And don't get me started on pumpkins.  Each of the four kids has to have his or her own.  Their part of this cherished "family activity": take 45 minutes to pick out the perfect pumpkin, say "Now can we carve the pumpkins?" five times each, and ultimately use a permanent marker to draw ridiculously small - or physically impossible - face designs for me to cut.  My part: take four pumpkins one at a time and cut them open (nobody else has the muscle for it), scoop out all the slimy guts and seeds (nobody else has the stomach for it) and then attempt to cut the designs as drawn while listening to "Do mine next!"  in my ear repeatedly. 

And then all of a sudden your kids are the age where they all assume they will be dressing up for Halloween and their imagination is unlimited.  And you are left trying to figure out a "cool" costume that is not gross or gory and, most importantly, doesn't cost anything. 

And it's impossible. 

So a day before Halloween, you break down and spend several hours and at least 60 or 80 bucks as you pick through the leftovers in several department stores to piece together four passable costumes.

Then on the big night, you take the kids out to collect more candy in two hours than they should eat in a decade and you answer "Can I eat one more piece?" and "How about this one- it's small?" a dozen times in the affirmative and then at least four times with "No more... stop asking me" and ... oh yeah ... it's freezing cold outside but you haven't gotten around to digging out your winter coat yet.  And one more thing: even though you believe your kids have tons of common sense usually, you're not convinced that the hope of a full-size candy bar on the other side of the street isn't enough to cause them to dart, without looking, into oncoming traffic. 

Which seems to be oncoming at twice the normal speed of any other night.

After two hours the kids are bloated, whiny and shivering ... but they still want "one more house".  Eventually you drag them home and forcibly strap them into their beds where, several hours later, they slip into a peaceful sugar coma. 

But listen, I am not a COMPLETE Halloween Scrooge.  There are a few things I miss.

I miss the leaves changing colors and the shortening of days.  I miss catching "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" on TV. And I miss WHOM we trick-or-treated with.  We had a 6 or 7 year long tradition running of joining Steve and Keri Combs and their four kids for dinner, pictures of the 8 kids together in their outfits on the front lawn, and then a long pass through the neighborhood for some candy-begging. 

Yeah, we all missed THAT this year.  Even me.  As I write, Caleb and Samuel and Hannah are Skyping with Matthew Combs and it's not quite the same ... but it's something.

And a good friend sent a care package last week which included a bundle of artificial flowers in an array of Autumn colors.  Which is something.  Melissa put them in her favorite vase.

And we've received as much candy in the mail recently as the kids generally bring home from a full evening of trick-or-treating.  So the kids are sugared up.  Which is something. 

AND the kids have been more generous with THIS candy than we could have dreamed of in past years. 

Which is really something. 

Ruysdael, for example, recently enjoyed a blue ring pop:

So, all in all, not a bad Halloween.  God is good and we are content.  Which is really something.

It almost gets me excited about the "holiday season" in a way I haven't experienced since I was much younger!  Can't wait.