Favorite Halloween costumes and an ‘Aww, Ricky’

We take so much for granted as children. I mean, dressing up? Nothing out of the ordinary. We can be princesses and walk in our mothers’ heels from here to eternity, never worrying that anyone is discussing our eccentric behavior. It’s nothing to don a crown and prance around the living room, or to find a magic wand and place “curses” on others. It’s all fun. Make believe.

But since I’m not eight anymore, I know I can’t get away with such behavior. Halloween is the only time I can safely go out dressed as a witch or devil and not be thought a creeper by the general populace. I might try to milk the whole costume thing and dress up in Christmas- or elf-related garb come December, but that’s a stretch.

Like all kids, I took my Halloween costumes very seriously. There was the year I was a cheerleader, for instance, complete with a sash for my elementary school. On another occasion I was Miss America (oh, if only); and then, of course, there were the endless witch costumes. The Wicked Witch was sort of my go-to, which is funny considering how terrified I am of “The Wizard of Oz.” I guess I was overcompensating.

One of my favorites was my Blue Fairy costume. In 1992, Katie dressed up as Belle from “Beauty and the Beast” and I recycled one of my mom’s old bridesmaids dresses from the ’60s to become a magical helper. What I remember most were the sequin-covered wands my little sister and I had. Though I’m unsure why Belle would need a magic wand, we went with it — and you’ll also spot a fully-clothed Beast doll in Katie’s arms. (He lost his Beast head soon after and was, from then on, merely the unmasked Prince.)

We used to go trick-or-treating in our own neighborhood, checking out the costumes on the local kids, then hop over to my grandparents’ house to visit their friends and neighbors. Since our elementary school was just a block or two from Grandma and Grandpa’s, we usually saw lots of kids we knew — and showing off your costumes was always half the fun.

Though Halloween is different now, of course, I still enjoy the holiday and eat my fair share of treats. I dressed up as a ’20s flapper in 2009 and have a newly-acquired Lucille Ball costume for this year’s festivities! I’m still trying to convince Spencer to be the Ricky to my Lucy, but he’s hesitant thus far. If he goes for it, we’re going to have to work on our “Babalu.” 

Though my singing could make an angel cry. 

Maybe I’ll just stick to the ol’ trademark “Aww, Rick-yyyyyy . . .”

Whining? Never been a problem for me.

It’s hard to be angry in a Halloween costume, but I managed it

Because it’s Monday, the day after Halloween and I’m recovering from more dental surgery . . .

I’m sharing with you possibly the most hilarious, embarrassing photo of myself. Ever.

In 1994, I was a sassy 9-year-old who had grown weary of being photographed. I went through what I’d consider to be a years-long pout — basically, I was cranky, grumpy and didn’t like being told what to do.

(Well, I’m still not big on the whole “taking orders” thing. But, you know.)

I don’t remember the decision-making process that brought me to this moment: a reluctant fourth-grader being coerced into smiling for her mom, who was joyfully snapping pictures of her girls in our backyard. I’ve seen that annoyed glint in my eye on many occasions, and still spot it in snapshots here and there.

And I don’t remember choosing to be a sock-hop girl. Halloween costumes around my house were always very cute and creative. Growing up with a younger sister, many of our outfits actually matched — a fact that caused me grief. I do remember that I was alone as an angry poodle-skirt-wearing girl this year; Katie opted for another look entirely. But in other years, we were both beauty pageant winners and witches. And one year, Katie was Beauty from “Beauty And The Beast.” (And she carried a Beast doll, which was adorable.) I was a fairy godmother. (But probably not hers.)

This Halloween, we were home loading up on “Hocus Pocus,” “The Nightmare Before Christmas” and “Ernest Scared Stupid.” After carving our pumpkins, Spencer helped us round up the pumpkin seeds and toast them in the oven. Drenched in salt and crunchy, they were a fantastic seasonal treat.

But no costumes for me. And no angry poodle-skirt scowl, either.

How was everyone’s holiday? Any tales of tricks or treats?