By Dawgelene “Dr. Dawj” Sangster
As a child, my family celebrated Halloween each year. I looked forward to dressing up and trick-or-treating at school and in the neighborhoods. We put up decorations, purchased candy to give to kids, and just had so much fun. One year, there was a rumor about someone putting razor blades in candy for kids. When my mom found out, she was angry and insisted that we did not go trick-or treating that year.
I was livid! How could my mom disrupt my Halloween plans for that year? Who did she think she was to tell 10-year-old me that I could not go trick-or-treating with my friends?
I had my mind set on going out with my friends, and I wasn’t going to let my overly paranoid mother stop me from going. I sought the assistance of my big brother who I knew would help me. My mom had plans to go grocery shopping and my plan was to go trick-or-treating with my friends while she was gone, and make it back before she returned.
My plan was perfect; so I thought.
As soon as mom left for the grocery store, I rushed to put on my costume, called my friends, and we set out trick-or-treating through the neighborhood.
We had a blast running, playing, eating candy, and just having a good time. I had so much candy that my bag was running over.
As I turned the corner one block from home, I could see a figure standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I got closer, and recognized that the figure was my mom.
Holy Crap, I was in trouble!
I also noticed a long string of some sort hanging from her hand. Was that a belt? Oh God! My tears started rolling before I got close to her, because I felt that it would soften the anger she was feeling from my disobedient behavior.
Mom snatched my candy bag, whacked me with the belt, and chased me in the house. The next 10 minutes were detrimental to my mental and physical health. She beat the crap out of me. I was whipped through each room in the house, under the table and through the chairs, and even in the pantry.
The last time I ever celebrated Halloween was that year. It was also the last time I ever got my butt whipped by my mom.
While I don’t have anything against anyone else that choose to celebrate Halloween, my choice is to sit in the house, turn the porch lights out, and pray that no one rings my doorbell!