Sting might have sung about being an Englishman in New York but I think we all know what he was really talking about, when it comes to being a legal alien, with all the associated feelings of displacement; namely, being an expat Brit in North America on Halloween.
I just…can’t…. quite get there.
I mean I like a good Halloween child-made bunting:
And I can get on board with a few pumpkins carved by the children with mr tMatM in the garden, a beautiful scene of childhood idyll.
I even thought the school’s idea for a Historical Halloween was an excellent idea, dressing up as an important historical figure and presenting a speech on their contributions to the world:
Nevertheless! I’m in for all of the above! Big boxes of chocolates/candy at the ready! I even thought this chap was pretty amusing:
Especially given that the children are insistent that he says “no Bobbies here” despite my not insignificant efforts to explain the “nobody’s here” / “no bodies here” wordplay.
And yet, all of this and ultimately I am still the dour Brit amidst a sea of people who are far more into the spirit of it. Mums (moms) on the school run today in witches hats and kitten ears and my poor children are left with the same unslept slightly grumpy mother as ever. Although I was characteristically dressed in black so you never know, I may have inadvertently passed for a Halloween fan regardless.
Anyway, costumes cobbled together from the dressing up box (a tickle trunk in Canada, who knew?!) and we’re all set for the trick or treat excitement tonight.
There’s always next year right Sting?