“I don’t want to trick-or-treat this year,” Eleven announced earlier in October.  “I want to stay home and hand out candy.”

“Absolutely not,” I said.

As you know, I am a chill and well-centered mother who is toootally fine with the fact that her oldest child has grown into high school and a driver’s license and her youngest has grown into middle school and – sigh – puberty.  Toooooootally fine.  SO FINE, in fact, that when her fifteen-year-old spent the previous two Halloweens playing hockey games instead of trick-or-treating, she did not go overboard in any way to make sure her eleven-year-old made up for it.  Because she was SO TOTALLY FINE with it all.

“Don’t you want to go trick-or-treating with your friends?”  I asked, trying to regain my chill and well-centered motherness.

“No,” he said, which didn’t surprise me because Eleven has never been your typical trick-or-treater, always caring less about the candy and more about his conversations with the candy givers and fellow trick-or-treaters along the streets.  Last year, he trick-or-treated with a friend and she had to force him to go more than a handful of blocks because once he had his fill of chit-chat (and had shoveled as much candy into his gullet as possible, also his M.O.), he was dun, son.

“But if you don’t go trick-or-treating, you’ll miss all of the decorations on Belmont and Reeves,” I said, trying one last time.  For those of you not from Grand Forks, Belmont and Reeves are two neighborhoods known for their supreme Halloweening.

He thought about that for a moment.

“Okay, I’ll go,” he said.  “If you dress up as Clara Barton and go with me.”

Thanks to our summertime trip to Washington, D.C., Eleven is currently fascinated by the American Revolutionary War and Civil War history.  So much so, in fact, that Kyle purchased him a Union cavalry uniform.

“Absolutely yes,” I said.

“And if you get me a saber to go with my uniform,” he tried.

“No chance,” I said because I’m the family party pooper whenever someone asks me about jumping off high things or riding motorized vehicles or purchasing weaponry.

“Okay, I’ll still go,” he said.

Clara Barton earned the nickname “Angel of the Battlefield” for caring for wounded soldiers on the front lines of the American Civil War – an experience that led her to establish the American Red Cross in 1881.  Obviously, since she founded the Red Cross 15 years after the conclusion of the Civil War, Clara Barton did not wear her iconic red cross uniform on the battlefield.  She wore her clothes.

It’s no secret that I will wear a costume anytime, anywhere.  If it were socially acceptable, I’d wear a Halloween costume to work.  And I will especially wear a costume if that costume requires a hoop skirt, bonnet, or apron and if you know anything about women’s clothing in 1860s America you’ll know that CLARA BARTON WORE ALL THREE HUZZAH!

On Halloween, I put on two pairs of long underwear even though it was really nice outside, and then pulled my wedding petticoat out of storage, fluffed it to its fullest, and put that on, too.  Or, at least, attempted to put it on because the two pairs of long underwear (and not two decades of weight gain) made it very difficult to zip.

I called in eleven-year-old reinforcements.

“Suck in!”  He shouted as I held onto the banister and he yanked with all his might.

We settled on using safety pins to cram it together.

The costume and bonnet went on much more easily, and since Eleven had been wearing his uniform since September the early morning, we were dressed and ready early enough for an extensive photo shoot (and extensive Photoshopping; the photo above is one such example) before heading out for the evening.

Here is a summary of our trick-or-treating in bullet form:

• It turns out that a mother and son dressed up in complementary costumes is just weird enough that it earns everyone candy.  My apron pockets were stuffed with Kit-Kats and Snickers by the time we got home.  It also helped that my eleven-year-old soldier kept saluting everyone who complimented him, which earned him even more candy.  One gentleman gave him a literal fistful of lollipops after he saluted following the initial lollipop.
• Eleven’s candy bag was full enough for his liking within the first half-hour, so he started sharing his candy with the kids on the street.  Even though he was full of candy, that didn’t stop him from trick-or-treating; he would either ring the doorbell “just to say hello” or to compliment their decorations.
• It was so gloriously warm that we had to stop into my godparents’ house to air out the ol’ petticoat and cool off.  Eleven’s uniform included gloves, and those gloves made it to roughly four houses before they ended up back in the car.
• I also got a chance to loosen the bonnet strings while Eleven petted a miniature pony that a girl brought along trick-or-treating.  Interestingly, the girl was not wearing a costume, but the pony was (angel wings).
• I ran into a coworker on the street and said, “Hello, Andrew,” and he said, “Hello, Amanda,” and neither of us mentioned my costume at that moment or at work in the days following, which goes to show that I think I could wear costumes to work because I obviously look natural in them.
• The community of Grand Forks was so incredibly generous that we trick-or-treated various neighborhoods until 8:30 PM and there were still tons and tons of lights on and grown-ups sitting on their front lawns in front of a fire pit ready and willing to hand out full-sized candy bars – and, in one case, Pokémon cards.

We returned home at 8:30 PM and Eleven spent the next hour handing out candy to trick-or-treaters…and by “handing out candy to trick-or-treaters,” he went up and down our block and the block behind us and found people trick-or-treating and gave them candy.  For my part, I unhooked the safety pins and took off both of my pairs of pants and lounged on the couch in the most unladylike position possible eating Kit-Kats and Snickers bars.

Finally, our Halloween had reached its conclusion, and Eleven ate one more piece of candy before taking a shower and brushing his teeth.

“Did you have a good day?”  I asked him as he brushed his teeth a second time.

“Yes, the best day,” he said.  “I’ll go trick-or-treating with you anytime, even when I’m a grownup.  You just need to ask.  We have to wear costumes that are the same, though.”

“Absolutely, yes,” I said.  “Put it on the calendar for every year from now until forever.”

---

As previously mentioned, the photo above is from our extensive photo shoot. This one was particularly hard to achieve because the first version included Eleven, who kept insisting we look at one another and then breaking into hysterical laughter as soon as we locked eyes.

---

This week on North Dakota Today we talked about a criminally fun (and free) event thanks to a UND student group, as well as a van delivering North Dakota produce around the state. (Valley News Live)

Here’s the first little bit of my latest column in the Grand Forks Herald:

As a self-professed expert on niceness, I sure do love Halloween. For one glorious evening, our community becomes a shared experience. We cover our front steps in carved pumpkins and fake spiderwebs, “ooh” and “ahh” over the parade of costumes and fill the sidewalks and the air with fun and free candy. It’s collective magic-making, and I’m very grateful for it.

I’m also incredibly impressed by how many of our fellow Grand Forksers go above and beyond — or boo-yond — to make the holiday special. Last year, I wrote about how the neighborhoods of Belmont Road and Reeves Drive transform into a Halloween Hallmark movie. This year, I’d like to tell you about another kind of movie masterpiece — this time, on Desiree Drive.

Grand Forks’ Arleen Norton has gone viral at the age of 85. (KFYR TV)

“He was Mr. Medora.” (Fargo Forum)

In 2026, 222 children were adopted in North Dakota, which maintains no waitlist for adoption services. If you’re looking to grow your family, 29 children in the foster care system are looking to be adopted. (ND.gov)

---