Halloween 2005: Gideon's "Sting" Operation

19-month-old Gideon Tyree’s second Halloween is coming up, and while he’s not at the stage of counting the days until big events, he’s getting in the mood nonetheless.

He throws a fit when he can’t find his “pump-jack” (jack-o-lantern) books, and he shrieks with delight when I feign fright at his shouts of “Boo!” (I just hope nothing gets lost in the translation. It would be embarrassing if he told the preacher, “Daddy gets boos and falls down.”)

Gideon will go trick-or-treating this year, but only to a select group of homes, mostly people we know from church.. I guess traditionalists will bemoan this trend and bombard us with heartwarming cards that admonish, “Extorting candy from total strangers is the reason for the season.”

Gideon will show off his bee costume, which he picked out himself. Costumes inspire kids to fantasize about interstellar adventures, magical kingdoms, and the Old West. They inspire adults to fantasize about the apparel actually being manufactured in the U.S.A.

Gideon will also show off his math skills when he goes visiting. He can count up to 288. No, really. When he stuck his finger up his nose, the babysitter exclaimed, “Gross!” Gideon stuck both fingers up his nose and replied, “Two gross!”

Despite all the ghosts, witches, and goblins on the prowl October 31, I think Gideon will take everything in stride. He did okay meeting Smokey the Bear earlier in October. I’m the one who gets freaked out at this time of year, by nightmares about all candy suddenly carrying the disclaimer “Some assembly required” or “Batteries not included.”

I think the reason the day after Halloween is called All Saints’ Day is that it would take a saint not to punch out a neighbor who sends kids bouncing off the wall with sugar.

I’m glad that Gideon is still blissfully ignorant of Halloween vandalism and the urban legends about fiends inserting sharp foreign objects into goodies. You know, the reports that get hospitals to volunteer to x-ray bags of Halloween treats. (“Sorry. This candy contains nougat. I’ll have to refer you to a specialist.”)

Gideon has an analytical mind, so he’ll probably brainstorm better uses for the x-ray. Someday he’ll be charging other kids to use a portable x-ray to determine which houses are harboring fruit, wheat germ, and other yucky non-candy snacks.

Perhaps someday I’ll tell Gideon about Daddy’s Halloweens during the Cold War. Sure, you could avail yourself of the x-ray, but the real answer to suspicious candy was to hide under your school desk. (“Incoming missiles? Hide under the desk. Marauding hippies? Hide under your desk. Arsenic in the wood the desks are made of? You’re up the creek without a paddle!”)

We’ve been allowing Gideon only small amounts of sweets. But I think his exposure to TV coverage of childhood obesity would make him behave prudently even if offered a cornucopia of “forbidden fruit.” (“Do you know how to say ‘Thank you,’ little boy?” “Do you know how to say ‘enabler,’ old woman?”)

Melissa and I are enjoying Gideon’s Halloween to the max. I’m living vicariously through him, since I don’t go to many parties myself. I do have a great costume, though. If I receive an invitation, I won’t show up at the house at all. Yes, I’ll be “going” as an independent contractor!