Status Anxiety | 5 November 2011

The period that stretches from Halloween to Guy Fawkes Night has got to be the worst week of the year if you’re a parent of young children. At the time of writing, I’ve managed to get through one and have one to go.

I vaguely recall attending a few Halloween parties as a youth, but the custom of going door-to-door, threatening innocent householders with a ‘trick’ unless you’re given a ‘treat’, is entirely alien to these shores. Like other ‘traditional festivals’ that my children demand to take part in — Mother’s Day, the school prom — it is an unwelcome American import.

But that’s the least of it. First, you’re forced to buy all sorts of ridiculous costumes so your children can dress up like anti-capitalist protesters. Then there’s the inevitable argument as to which parent is going to be lumbered with the job of accompanying the motley crew on their rounds.