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 One disagreement around this time of year: My husband believes that the kids should be playing outside, whereas I feel that we all need a trip to the "Spirit Halloween" store.


Last weekend, I won. The highlight was the demon-nun "Valak" from "The Conjuring." If you stepped on the fake soil at Valak's feet, he/she would hurl his/her body at you; the pale white face would begin to speak. But there was also a Satanic clown, perhaps inspired by "Clown in a Cornfield," a film I've yet to see. And my son was intrigued by a kind of rotting corpse-bride (a bride evoking thoughts of, you guessed it, "Corpse Bride," a film just as wonderful as its title).

Everyone made a selection. Josh--having the time of his life--chose a small two-headed skeleton (it now hangs in his bedroom). Susie can become somewhat rabidly acquisitive, so she stretched her purchasing rights to include *two* items, a set of goo-encrusted eyeballs and a small spider-shaped "claw-clip" for her hair. I found a blood-spattered serving tray stamped with the words "Bates Motel." My spouse--trying to practice fiscal restraint--chose nothing. But his sense of struggle was visible through subtext; he actually shoplifted a pumpkin-shaped "headband," having forgotten that he had stuck it behind his ears.

As we left, the two adults in the car made plans to watch "Psycho." Eyeballs bounced around the back seat. It was September, sure, but Halloween had arrived.

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