No, I’m not talking about sex. Or a romance novel title. I’m talking about Trick or Treating. I’m going to make you feel sooo sorry for me.

As a child, my parents didn’t let me go trick or treating, and it wasn’t because of rabid religious reasons or the fact I might swallow a stray straight pin in my Snickers bar. My mother thought T or T was begging. They didn’t do it in Vienna, Austria, ergo, it would not be done in Hempstead, New York. This didn’t stop her from making me costumes for the classroom Halloween parties (when you could still have such things), nor did it stop her from having mounds of Mounds and Almond Joys to pass out to the neighborhood kids. But I was not allowed to venture out in the dark with devils and witches to score free candy.

It wasn’t until I was a freshman in high school that I finally went T or T with my friend Barbara. The night was sadly flat and fizz-less. Even though I was wearing all of my mother’s and grandmother’s costume jewelry and scarves, my lips hideously crimson with lipstick, this gypsy felt gypped. I was past my prime and I knew it.

I have since forgiven my parents for their quirks. When I think of the restrictions placed on Regency heroines, my youth was positively Bacchanalian. My parents let me drink wine at dinner and kaffee mit schlag und schnapps when I was just a kid. That was okay in Vienna, Austria. They gave me a TV and a phone for my room. Looking back, I can say I was pretty much spoiled rotten. And sometimes drunk.

But, ah, how I once chafed to partake in that All-American Halloween ritual. This year, I’ll settle for wearing my glow-in-the-dark ghost pin and muttering the occasional ‘boo.’.

Any plans to trick or treat/party? What’s your favorite costume? I once dressed as a Viagra Victim, with a pillow stuffed under my dress and a baby doll pinned to my shoulder.

What was your forbidden fruit? How did it taste once you took a bite?

Forbidden fruit causes many jams. ~Anon.