Getting tricked up is no treat

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“Grandpa,” my 10-year-old granddaughter asked me recently, “guess who I’m going to dress up as for Halloween. Her first name starts with a K.”

“Katherine Hepburn?” I guessed.

“No. Katy Perry.”

“That’s nice,” I said, even though I’m not sure a Katy Perry costume is appropriate for a 10-year-old girl. But I suppose it’s better than letting her walk around her neighborhood dressed as Miley Cyrus saying “Twerk or Treat.”

“Who are you going to dress up as?” she asked.

“Grandpas don’t dress up for Halloween,” I explained. “We have to stay home and give out candy. “

Which is only part of the truth. The rest of the truth is that I buckled under the pressure of creating a suitable Halloween costume years ago.

That never was a problem when I was her age. Every year I put on raggedy clothes, a rubber mask that looked a lot like Jimmy Durante and went trick or treating as an old homeless person. (Or, as we call them back then, “bum.”)

I’m not sure what old men had to do with Halloween, but then the whole trick or treating thing seemed a bit upside-down to me, even at that age. I wondered why I had to go through all the work of begging strangers for candy — most of which I didn’t like — when there was a whole bowl I DID like at home being given out by my parents to other people’s kids.

But as an adult I struck out every October, costume-wise. The last whiff was several years ago when my wife and I went to a party dressed as Martha and Rod Stewart, which I thought was pretty clever, given our last name. She wore a blonde wig and a funky suit. I wore a blonde wig and a dress with strategically-placed padding. Most of the people at the party guessed who she was, but they all thought I was supposed to be Dolly Parton. Apparently I had too much strategically-placed padding. Or maybe I should have worn a prison uniform.

I could just buy a costume, I suppose. For $29.99 I could be a beekeeper, for $39.99 a pope or for $49.99 a “funny cardinal.” I’d have thought it would be more expensive to be a pope than a cardinal, but I’m not real religious. Buying a costume seems like cheating, though, sort of like getting your Thanksgiving dinner ready-made instead of cooking it yourself.

When I explained all that to my granddaughter she seemed disappointed, so I said, “Well, maybe I could go dressed up as an old man.”

“No, Grandpa,” she protested, “you’re supposed to wear a DISGUISE.”

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