Trick or treating can be a costume carousel

Resslin' Around, by Casey Ressler

Tyrannosaurus Rex, Bob the Builder, Spooky Ookie, a clown, a jaguar, Dora the Explorer, a snow angel, back to the T-Rex, the snow angel again, Bob the Builder's friend Wendy, a CareBear, some character named Jo-Jo, a witch and finally, at long last, the clown again.

Welcome to the week leading up to Halloween with a soon-to-be 3-year-old in your house, a time when picking a costume is as easy as turning on the TV, but it suddenly turns very difficult at the top and bottom of every hour, when Bob the Builder yields his time to Dora the Explorer.

We settled on the clown costume two weeks ago, for some very simple reasons. Economically, it makes more sense than plopping down a king's ransom to become, well, a king, even if for one night.

Secondly, it won't scare her half to death and force us into years of counseling, which is more expensive than just buying one of those expensive packaged costumes in the first place.

For two weeks, we tried to reinforce the idea that clowns get more candy than other costumes, and that clowns can be fun and scary, to make being a clown sound so much more appealing.

"That kid down the block with the $20.99 Scream mask, $15.87 cape, $5 worth of makeup and $22.25 worth of fake blood, yes, he's scary, but his mom also drives a Cadillac Escalade and evidently hands out $5 bills on Halloween, honey," we told our daughter. "Your clown suit is so adorable."

As my daughter gets older, I realize how the meaning of holidays change. Seeing things through the eyes of a young child makes you realize how materialistic our holidays have gotten, from Halloween to Christmas. Such an emphasis is placed on how much money goes into the day -- from costumes to buying Christmas gifts -- that you lose the fun of it all.

Now, it means more to me to hear my daughter master the phrase "Trick-or-treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat. Give me candy, give me cake. Give me something good to take" than anything else.

Other parents are in the same boat -- you can tell, because when their kids trick-or-treat, they get huge smiles on their faces as well.

At the end of a long evening of trick-or-treating, in a candy-induced coma that inevitably lasts only until 6:30 a.m. the next day, that peaceful look on a clown's face makes all the hassle worth it.

Well, that and dipping into her candy bag for a Tootsie Roll or two when she's sleeping.

Casey Ressler (valleylife@frontiersman.com) is the Valley Life editor. He ate candy corn until he was so bloated he couldn't walk this weekend.