|This is the kind of wholesome Halloween stuff I was raised to love: teddy bear costumes and trick or treating.|
Here’s an exhaustive list of what I like about Halloween: candy, dressing up in fun costumes, and watching Chris carve a pumpkin. All that gory, frightening nonsense? Pass.
Let’s start with scary movies.
People always want to watch scary movies around Halloween, and I feel like the lone crazy person who doesn’t want to watch [fill in the horrible blank]. I cannot watch the PREVIEWS for scary movies. I get creeped out looking at the posters. I don’t have to explain this to little kids. For a long time, my friends and I were trick-or-treating in peace. But scary movies got cool in high school, especially around Halloween, and so fifteen years ago this month I watched the scariest movie I ever saw… The Sixth Sense. I knew the entire plot from the very beginning of the movie, I was in a giant cuddle ball with like fourteen of my most supportive friends, but I still have nightmares loosely based on that terrifying kitchen cupboard scene. No more scary movies for me.
Then there’s haunted houses.
In college I went with an otherwise reasonable group of friends to a haunted house that ended in a corn maze. As we left the house (where the very worst nightmares are sent to prison), my roommate and I got separated from the rest of our group, and a dude with a chainsaw chased us into the cornfield. We took a wrong turn, faced a dead end, and as we screamed and clung to each other I was so distraught that I genuinely, sincerely believed I had to choose between escaping this madman or actual death. It’s a funny story now, but I cannot emphasize this part enough: one us literally went home with pee-soaked pants that night, and I’d rather not say who. So that was the last haunted house I ever went to.
I do not understand all the “fun” Halloween things. I’m really happy to stay home and pass out fun-size Snickers bars to cute, tiny Iron Men. I realize that admitting to all this makes me the equivalent of a Halloween Grinch, so my apologies to Jack Skellington for having a Tell-Tale Heart that is two sizes too small.