Halloween brings out best in America's 'little monsters'

There's nothing like Halloween to make you feel good about being a good, old American parent.

Terrorism has done nothing to stop our candy crusade, at least judging from all the tasty treats Becca and Bailey and their friends collected in a door-to-door journey on Halloween night.

We only went down two streets, but that was more than enough to fill their plastic pumpkins with enough chocolate candy to last a lifetime.

Halloween is the one time of year when it's OK to have cobwebs on your front porch and loud screaming is encouraged.

It's the time of year when even parents can dress like goblins and ghouls without attracting the concern of fellow neighbors.

On our Halloween stroll, one homeowner dressed up like a witch and stood on her front porch to hand out treats as blinking eyes shined out from her front windows. She even promised the kids broom rides, but no one was buying it.

Becca and Bailey went trick or treating as rock stars. No werewolf costumes for them. Britney Spears is scary enough for most parents.

Joni and I stayed in the shadows, shepherding our kiddie clan from house to house and making sure they thanked every homeowner for the sugar high that will have them bouncing off the walls for weeks to come.

Glowing pumpkins greeted us at most houses. The weather was just right, complete with a full moon to accompany our little goblins.

Still, as Becca will tell you, it's hard work to carry around a plastic pumpkin loaded with a ton of candy. Our 9-year-old was ready to call it a night even before her younger sister.

Bailey, who is nearly 6, boldly knocked on some doors all by herself, intent on getting more candy. When you're 6, you know you can conquer the world, at least before bedtime.

In the old days, kids had to tell jokes to get the goodies. Now, all they have to do is show up on the doorstep.

Halloween is the one time of year when it's OK to let your hair down, particularly if you are a werewolf without a razor.

Naturally, the Druids would feel right at home in America. After all, they helped promote Halloween before the days of discount stores and jumbo bags of candy.

In Ireland, people begged for food in a parade that honored Muck Olla, a Celtic god that wasn't on anybody's spell check. The leader of the parade wore a white robe and mask, setting the stage for fanatic fan Monday Night Football attire.

In Scotland, people paraded through fields and villages carrying torches, and generally alarming emergency preparedness officials.

In England, Halloween was called Snap Apple Night, much to the chagrin of marketing specialists everywhere who couldn't figure out how to turn apples into a ghostly mess.

But in America, we know how to have a howling good time, particularly when our kids are happy.

Becca and Bailey love Halloween. Becca didn't even mind being chased by the chainsaw man at the haunted house this year.

Somehow, I don't think my daughters would feel the same way about Snap Apple Night. They're not big about apples and nuts, which are essential to a good Snap Apple Night.

And as all parents know, Halloween just wouldn't be the same without our little monsters. Nothing can scare away those hugs.

Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.