They Call Me Junebug

'Cause suicide is painless

Cowboy boots? Check.

Fatigues? Check.

Bathrobe? Check.

Cowboy hat? Check.

Martini glass? Check.

Now all I need is some vodka and a hot nurse and I’m all set. You can call me Benjamin Franklin Pierce.


Now, on to business.

Today being Halloween, it raises a grand debate in my newly formed household. My husband absolutely adores Halloween. He loves every ghost and goblin and ghoul, every blood splattered costume and fiendish decoration. I on the other hand, don’t really like Halloween all that much. I dislike having a “holiday” that brings out so much ugliness. Granted, I’m talking superficial ugliness, the monsters and criminals (Freddy etc) and evil (demons and devils) that the holiday always brings about. Regardless of whether it’s a costume or not, I don’t want my children, especially not at a young age (I’m thinking less than 13) to be exposed to so much ugliness, and be taught that it’s all in good fun. I’m not a fanatic who believes that Halloween is Satan’s holiday, but I still am uncomfortable with the thought of teaching my children that portraying ugliness and evilness (which can come in all forms, I’m looking at the person in the Hilary mask) is a fun way to get candy. To me, there’s enough real ugliness in the world, why would I want to bring any of it into my home? My children are going to be exposed to more than their fair share of ugliness and tragedy in the world, short of my locking them away from the TV, internet, radio, newspaper and any outside influence (which in locking them away, would I be creating the very type of horror that I was trying to protect them from? “Mom locks 4 children away in safe room, next on the evening news” Paradox there methinks.).

To me, if my children want to dress up for Halloween, there’s a multitude of roads to take away from the gory, frightening, downright ugly costumes. You want to be a pirate? I’ll sew you a costume. Indian Princesses? Coming right up! Dorothy & Scarecrow? Stewie Griffin? Shrek? Cowboy? All fine and dandy! I’m not even totally against my hypothetical ten year old going as Bela Lugosi’s Dracula or Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein, I’d try to find something else that intrigued them first. But I will not have an adult dressed like a zombie from Dawn of the Dead, or like this costume worn by one of the people at my office around my children if at all possible, and I certainly don’t want my husband or my child dressed that way.

I’m not trying to tell other people not to dress that way or that they’re bad parents for dressing their children that way. Just my own personal dislike for the glorification of ugliness in my own life, and that it will make life interesting since my dear husband believes the only way to celebrate Halloween is with ugliness and scariness. Boys!

Next hot sports opinion: I hate Santa Clause and will not perpetrate the lie to my children. Baby’s first Christmas at the Junebug household will be mighty interesting indeed.

I’m thinking of writing a book “When mommy and daddy fight over Santa Clause”.

Love,
Junebug

posted by The Call Me Junebug @ 2:02 PM