I don't like Halloween. There, I said it.
When I was a kid Halloween was simple: you'd put on a cheap paper mask (I was fond of Spiderman) or punch holes in a bed-sheet, head out for an hour or two, come back with candy and a few bucks for Unicef. That was the extent of it. But now... It's a weeks-long extravaganza with houses decorated to the hilt, special events at school and the corresponding peer pressure for costumes that'll knock it out of the ballpark. A paper mask? Please.
"When I was a kid we'd walk ten miles in the snow!..."
It IS kinda cute for a second or two though—the wigs, the makeup, the funny faces. Last year Jacob was our first deserter, invited to spend the evening with a friend from school. This year Anaïs joined the fray and did her own thing as well. So for a few short hours of roaming and candy hunting, Heloïse got to be an only-child; she was ecstatic. "Just me and my parents!" she kept repeating, grinning from ear to ear. As much as you try and give everyone their one on one time, being the youngest of three inevitably takes its toll I guess. Your space, after all, is defined within a group from day one. That's your reality.
I broke out the XF 35mm f/1.4 on this one (except for the image at top shot with the X100T). A vampire, a doll (Lalaloopsy anyone?) and a pirate—who had already jumped ship before I reached for the camera.
Eventually Cynthia and I will have our wish: on Halloween night we'll spend a quiet evening at home, watching a movie, maybe having a glass of wine.
And we'll miss all of this nonsense so much it'll hurt.