Halloween is a big event in our house. Or, as I discovered this year, it used to be.
I've never been stumped about what to buy for my son's birthday at the end of September. At the top of his list will be somewhat gimmicky items, such as fake live wires that hiss and shake, or expensive licensed products, including a copy of the proton unit from Ghostbusters franchise.
He loved visiting the local Spirit Halloween store and choosing gifts for a certain amount of money. It was cool to see his face light up when he reached the animatronics section, stepped on the touch pads, and recoiled when a giant spider or crazy nun jumped out.
But not this year.
My son didn't want to go to the store on Halloween
This fall, a week before his 15th birthday, I literally had to drag him out of the car when we parked. He wanted to stay home and play on his iPhone, a tactic he uses whenever we try to take him for a short walk.
Some Halloween decorations in the yard of the author's house. With permission of the author
His father confiscated his devices and he reluctantly entered the store. It was a veritable treasure trove of killer clowns, decapitated pigs' heads and Harry Potter merchandise. My son showed about as much interest as a rap fan at a country music festival.
He gathered his strength for a while, looking in the mirror at himself wearing the Jason Voorhees mask from Friday the 13th. Then he decided Michael Myers and rushed to the cash register as if he couldn't wait to get out.
Similar stories
Business Insider covers the innovation stories you want to know
Business Insider covers the innovation stories you want to know
I once drove 160 miles round trip to pick up an animatronic I bought on eBay.
In 2024, he spent 90 minutes choosing between a scary sleeping scarecrow and a one-armed zombie named Rick Ratman, who had rodents crawling out of his head. He chose the latter and proudly placed it on the porch.
He joined the ghostly moving tree that I bought on eBay — which included a 160-mile round trip to a salesman's home in a neighboring state — and a giant talking triffid from Home Depot.
The author bought this screeching animatronic owl. With permission of the author
Traditionally, before every October 31st, a new animatronic is installed. Kids from the neighborhood ride past on their bikes to admire it. Some of them have been known to take pictures or video of it, which is why last month I bought a six-foot screech owl statue on special offer.
I told everyone that October 5th was Halloween Decoration Day. It was one of the highlights of the year, second only to hanging the Christmas stuff.
My teenage daughter said, “Less is more, Mom.”
Over time, my 17-year-old daughter has become less practical than her little brother. But she still took pleasure in draping black lace fabric over our lampshades for this ominous occasion. Victorian session look.
This year she didn't even want to do it. She said our decorations were tacky and tacky. “Less is more, Mom,” she chuckled before heading to Starbucks with her friends.
Not long ago, she was sitting at the kitchen table making “mummy lanterns” out of Mason jars, gauze bandages, garlands and googly eyes. She excitedly baked headless gingerbread men and drizzled them with blood-red icing.
The author's children enjoyed hanging these family Halloween decorations. With permission of the author
Pardon the terrible pun, but it was my son who stuck the proverbial knife in my heart. I brought boxes of decorations from the garage. He was sitting on the sofa I play Nintendo without looking up from the switch.
I asked if he wanted to help swing the legs of the flexible spiders up the stairs. “You do it, Mom,” he said. This was in stark contrast to when he was younger and we enjoyed this ritual together.
“Shall we collect an owl?” I asked. He shook his head. In the end, I forced him to go out into the yard so that he would hold the ladder while I hung the two corpses in cocoons.
It wasn't like previous years
It wasn't much fun installation of decorations myself. I missed the banter, laughter and camaraderie of family. Our au pair and his friend came to the rescue by putting together a new animatronic and tying the skeleton to the swing in our tree.
But it wasn't quite the same. I know that many children become increasingly distant from their parents as they grow older. But as I inserted another AA battery into the groaning plastic chandelier, I began to feel sad that I was losing my children—or had already lost them—to the passage of time.
Do you have an interesting parenting story to share with Business Insider? Please write to Jane Ridley at: [email protected]
