The exhausted dad: Dumping the ‘Too old for’ -isms

As much as I appreciate my parents and how they raised me, one of my most frustrating memories of childhood happened around Halloween in the 6th grade.

Middle school requires a long adjustment period as a kid. You wake up earlier. You go to different classrooms and deal with different teachers throughout the day. No recess. Also… hormones.

I remember struggling through those early weeks of middle school. My lunch period didn’t match my friends, and everybody else wanted to act, well, grown up.

Coming home from school one day in October, I asked my mom for some input on a Halloween costume.

“What’s the Halloween costume for?” She asked.

I didn’t understand her question.

“Are you going to the school dance? She asked.

Was that some kind of joke?! Me?! This awkward, 11-year-old schlub at a dance?! With girls?!

I then responded with what I thought was obvious: “I want to do a different costume for trick-or-treating this year.”

My mother looked genuinely befuddled.

“Trick-or-treating? You’re not going trick-or-treating. You’re in middle school now.” She said flatly, as if I already knew this devastating fact.

Why would it matter if a 6th grader went trick-or-treating?

I didn’t even need to ask her the question.

“You’re too old to go trick-or-treating,” she said. “That’s only for elementary school kids.”

I don’t remember if I made a big deal about it at the time, but I found this sudden declaration of adulthood to be devastating. I’m too old for free candy? How could someone without money be too old for anything free?

It seemed especially unfair because I spent my entire elementary school years avoiding chocolate products because of an early-life milk allergy. It was right around middle school when I got tested again, and just when I thought I could scarf a crumbly, delicious Butterfinger without a trip to the Emergency Room, my mom tells me I’m too old to acquire the candied treasures offered around our neighborhood.

I’ll defend my mom for a second here – I don’t think this incident ruined my childhood or anything. She had her reasons, and I later learned how much she personally doesn’t like Halloween (she was an elementary school teacher dealing with wild little children constantly, but especially on Halloween). And, to her credit, she still bought me a stash of fun size candy of my choosing and took me to the movies that night.

With my oldest daughter now in middle school, I can’t help but ruminate about my unexpected expulsion from door-to-door candy collection. Because my daughter is super excited to go trick-or-treating this year, and she can go the next year and the next year until she decides to stop.

Actually, there might be a future Halloween when she doesn’t want to go trick-or-treating, but her parents will make her take her younger siblings anyway. Booohahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

So many of her classmates own smartphones. She tells me about classmates who discuss new episodes of “Stranger Things,” and yet, she has no problem telling them about her favorite shows – “Barbie” and “Curious George.”

Surrounded by kids who seemingly can’t wait to become insufferable teenagers, I’m happy that my daughter is making her own choice to continue being a kid for as long as she wants.

Here’s the thing: You can keep acting like a kid well past your teenage years. I’m pushing 40 and I own more action figures than I did at any point in my childhood!

I’ve been seeing national articles about McDonald’s recent “Adult Happy Meal” promotion, which includes a weird, “artisan” toy to go alongside an adult-sized burger meal. All these articles include quotes from people who are overjoyed to re-experience Happy Meals and to re-spark their childhood.

I never stopped buying Happy Meals. Put a Pixar or Ninja Turtle-related item in the kid’s meal, and I’m going to collect the entire set (it helps to be an adult with an eBay account).

And I’m not the only one out there. The entirety of pop culture centers around grown adults with money buying all the cool stuff they had or wanted when they were kids. We’re single-handedly keeping this economy afloat. You’re welcome.

So, no, MOM, a 6th grader should go trick-or-treating if they still want to, and, hopefully, my daughter won’t get any remarks from neighbors like, “Aren’t you a little too old to be trick-or-treating?” Don’t tell kids to be adults sooner. Because being an adult sucks and you know it.

Would you prefer the alternative? Middle schoolers going out into the night to egg houses, discover alcohol and cause other assorted mischief? Trick… or treat. I mean, the consequence of your righteous judgment is right there in the name.

Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer, full-time student, and parent to four kids, ages 5-11. He is tired. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.