As a nod to Halloween, I will share with you lovelies some very funny Halloween related moments from my childhood.

.1. I used to gorge myself on so much candy (almost all of it) right after coming home from trick or treating (damn the BASTARDS who tricked instead of treated!), that my mother usually took me to the doctor’s the following day.

It was just a normal footnote to Halloween in our house…
I would trick or treat and collect as much sugar as possible.
My mother would point her finger at my circle for a head and say “don’t eat too much!“
I would stare at her with my circles for eyes and nod ‘ok’.
I would wait for her to fall asleep.
& then proceed to as-quiet-as-a-mouse unwrap as much candy as possible and stuff it into my aforementioned circle for a face.
Sometimes, and only because it was dark, I would miss my mouth and place a piece of candy in my nose. But not often.
I would discreetly, and only because it was dark, hide the wrappers underneath my covers.
My mother would find me on Nov 1st, passed out on top of candy wrappers, much like a drunk .

By about noon, my mother would take my doubled-over-in-pain body to the doctor.
The Doctor would laugh.
I would cry (& have the shakes).
My mother would swear to never let me out for Halloween “ever again!”
I would take a bigger bag the following year.
ad infinitum…

*psst. This only stopped in 2003.

.2. I have always been slightly temperamental and demanding (but now I’m really nice about it, and I give back 100 fold). One year, I forced my parents to buy me a full-throttle ballerina outfit (with shoes) so I could trick or treat looking – what I then considered – ‘sexy’.

I was 6, carried a wand and wore a tiara. I was the full-throttle idiot in a full-throttle ballerina outfit.

They bought me what I wanted, and from an actual dance studio. But then it all backfired because my mother put me in ballet classes. Ugh.

That was as memorable as my piano lessons. It was so memorable, I can’t remember a damn thing about it. My mother had to remind me that I took ballet. She said I hated it and would throw a fit every time she dragged me to the class. And – brace yourselves – I was the only one who had a tutu and refused to do ballet unless I was allowed to wear my tiara.

Now, I wear the tiara whenever I have a meeting with my assistant.

.3. In grades 6, 7 & 8, my girlfriends and I started developing crushes on boys. We wanted to be appealing to said crushes and so we used to dress all ‘grown up’ on Halloween.

Thing is, we never thought of women such as our mothers as appealing, alluring or sexy. We thought – again, brace yourselves – that prostitutes were the sexy ones.
Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like Mr. McKinnon was all “Oh, Maha, what are you this Halloween?”
And I’d smile and say “I’m the Mayflower Madam!”

It was more like, “What are you?”
“I’m a lady!”

I reference prostitutes now because when I look at our pictures from those Halloweens, there’s only two words that come to mind: Paid Whore.

Anyway. A troop of us idiot girls would spend an hour in the washroom every year. An hour prior to our Halloween Dance, we would tumble over one another and fumble with hideous colors that we would then smear all over our faces. We’d wear high heels and nylons with really short skirts, pull our hair up in the strangest styles and pull our shirts off our shoulders. Then we’d chew gum and prance out of the washroom, nearly falling over one another because none of us fit properly into the high heels we’d stolen from our mums.

Needless to say, none of the boys ever noticed us.

God, we were such drag queens.

Happy Halloween, kids!