As I wrote on The Free Press yesterday, we are in the midst of a Pumpkin Panic.
In East Texas, a 4-month-old girl participated in her day care’s “seasonal activity” of putting pumpkin guts in a plastic bag. The next day, she started vomiting, and by noon, she was admitted to the hospital. She had a very rough time of it, but thankfully recovered and is fine.
Her mom took to social media to tell others. She wasn’t fearmongering, just shocked. But pretty soon, salmonella fears were spreading like a fecal-orally transmitted infectious disease. Then came the calls to ban pumpkin-carving for kids.
Because that’s how this culture rolls. I still haven’t figured out exactly why — fear of blame, litigation, or eternal regret — but we now treat extremely rare, even one-in-340,000,000 events as if they are crucial to parental decision making.
And on Halloween, we turn that up to 11. It’s like we get that the holiday is about being scared, but forget that that it’s the KIDS who are supposed to be spooked (and then deal with it, and develop some lovely bravery. It’s like Exposure Therapy: The Holiday). Instead, we parents swat away the ghosts and swap in far-flung physical and psychological catastrophes we MUST MIGHTILY WORK TO AVOID:
So Parents magazine warns that if you’re going to talk to your kids about candy consumption on Halloween, make sure to do it the right way or they will develop an eating disorder. Instead of saying “Don’t eat too much,” say “There are foods that nourish our bodies that we need daily. However, there are other foods that we eat less often for pleasure or celebrations such as Halloween candy or birthday cake.”
Yes, that sounds like a totally natural and conversational thing to say to your child. Deviate and reap the whirlwind.
The same thing goes if their Halloween costume looks like they’re off to work a shift at Scores. Don’t roll your eyes or demand a longer skirt, Parents also wrote. Instead, have a nice, warm chat about “why they want to wear a certain costume and what they are hoping to get from it.” With any luck you’ll be “opening up deep concerns of not feeling good enough, or needing validation of worth from others.” Because every costume choice is a chance for you to discover how truly disturbed your child is!
Mash that and a bunch of other free-floating fears together and you get this stat: Only 15% of parents of kids 9-11 will let them trick or treat on their own.
Folks here know that I call this the result of WORST-FIRST THINKING: Thinking up the very WORST case scenario FIRST and proceeding as if it’s likely to happen.
I’m happy to say that while Bill Maher does not use that exact phrasing — yet — here he is making the same point: Adults have already shrunk childhood down to a supervised, sanitized waiting room no one is allowed to exit till age 18. But Halloween was the one Rumspringa day of the year.
Let’s give it back — full-size!