A Child's view of Halloween

                                    Halloween-through a child’s eyes.

       The pile of pumpkins  that I was sitting in had ripened to an orange softness that was appealing to the eye and pleasant to the touch. I sat amidst them uncomplaining, as mom fussed with the camera. It was Halloween and this picture taking was a family ritual.

         Sometimes, being a child is trying. Mom and Dad made funny faces and spoke softly, urging me to smile into the lens. I wasn't buying into it, not even for Mom & Dad. This was embarrassing. They would probably show it to friends and relatives for years afterwards.

       I wondered “what did Pumpkins have to do with the transubstantiation of souls into a metaphysical void? And what Dentist’s organization had introduced candy and sweets into the ritual?”  Even at my age, the whole event and following holiday seemed somewhat contrived. Perhaps sitting in a full diaper-load makes one philosophical?

       It isn't easy being nine months old. My fine motor skills are improving and it is becoming easier to grasp things. The food is getting more solid. It is finally moving away from that awful puree' of Gerber that doesn't look much different going in than it does coming out.

       I still can't verbalize articulately. I have to settle for high-pitched shrieks to command attention. I would give a year's growth to be able to ask for a popsicle or tell a cooing and obnoxious relative to stuff it! And I have toilet training still to come yet? Oy Vey!

       Why couldn't they just make us babies in miniature, already fully aware, and let us grow into these bodies a little quicker? Jeepers, I have to sit through thirteen years of school before I even get to college? Lord give me patience.

       There are trade-offs, however. I get all the attention that I want, eat whenever I am hungry and I am allowed to throw up on people without fear of retribution. If I could only manipulate the T.V. remote control, I could tolerate this stage of life a little better.

       Mom, Dad and the relatives have been a scream. Christ, I am trying to learn how to talk and they are warbling gibberish at me. What the heck does "Kootchy kootchy koo" or "snookums" mean? Mom is good though. She reads to me daily from large children's books. The subjects are a little silly and they have yet to address the subject of politically correct gender bias, but it is nice quality time and seems to make her happy. Maybe if I am good, she will start introducing a little Michener or Hemmingway into the sessions.  I like the faces they make though. I wish I could record them on film, for use in dealing with them later, when I need some leverage.

       I wonder how long of a run I'll get before they bring in another little darling to steal the scene? It will probably be a girl too! That's all I need. What about zero population growth? At least give me a couple of years on center stage.

       I suppose I should smile at the pumpkins and the costumes. I don't want to appear an ingrate to Mom and Dad. They have been pretty good to me and it doesn't take much to make them happy.  I can get a "good boy" out of them, just for belching! I wonder how long that lasts?

       I think I will take up golf in a few years. Dad has already bought me a set of clubs. I just hope that he doesn't try to teach me that awful inside-out swing of his. Christ, anybody knows that swing mechanics dictate a perpendicular tangent at the point of impact. I guess I will have to dummy up on that point though. Dad seems to get a real kick out of showing me how to do things. I wouldn't want to hurt his feelings. God, parents are easy to please. I wonder what a new Porsche will cost when I am sixteen? 

       Well, I am getting a little sleepy. I think I will stretch out in the car seat while Mom and Dad drive home.  I wonder what they think I am thinking? Educational Psychologist Jean Piaget is full of banana oil. He posited that children go through a range of development stages in their maturation process . I have the whole picture now, Jean. I just can't tell anybody. When next you see me, wink.  Lets' keep the rest between us.

Happy Halloween, y’all.

                                                -30-

                                    (761 words)

                                 Joseph X. Martin

                                       Halloween