I hate Halloween. It's the only holiday designed to punish parents. You really can't screw up at Christmas, because kids like presents. Birthdays are a piece of cake. But Halloween? I hate it.
My brother was born on Halloween, but that's fine. Someone cut our cat's tail off on Halloween when I was five or six. But I think it all goes back to Damnations.
DD loves dogs. Always has. She REALLY loves dogs. When she was tiny, she used to sleep in her crib like ET, surrounded by tons of stuffed animals. You couldn't see the girl for the animals. Plus, on her first Halloween, 101 Dalmatians was the newest big thing, so we decided to dress her like one.
We were pretty strapped for cash, with hubby in school, and two babies at home, so we put a yellow raincoat on ds and called him a fireman. DD got a white cardigan, with polka dots cut from black duct tape, and she was instantly a dalmatian. We only planned to go to grandparents' house and a couple of other places, anyway.
Then we went to dinner. The salads arrived just in time for DD to upchuck green stuff all over her outfit, me, and everything in her path. That was no treat, trust me.
By the next year, she was talking fluently, and every time she would see Disney's masterful marketing in the store, she would yell, "Look Mommy, DAMNATIONS!"
You're telling me, honey. You're telling me.