I don’t want to ruffle any feathers out there, but Halloween is a much better holiday than Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that one of those two holidays has deep spiritual meaning for a significant portion of the world’s population, and the other propels our nation’s youth further down the path of irreparable diabetes. Christmas certainly has its merits. It’s Jesus’ birthday (kind of). Your uncle who smells like olives takes over the guest room for a week. You have trouble falling asleep at night because A) you’re quickly going bankrupt as you knock out the kids’ Christmas list and B) there’s a decaying fire hazard in the corner of your living room. On paper, Christmas should be the clear winner here, but let’s take a moment to discuss exactly why Halloween is the superior holiday.
First and foremost, it’s the only night of the year I stand a chance at getting my wife to wear something slutty. Granted, it’s a really slim chance, and she’s never once donned the “Sexy Nurse” outfit that I buy her every year, but I’m basically a 13-year old pubescent boy trapped in a middle-aged man’s body, so I cling to that tiny thread of hope. Maybe next year?
Second, nobody judges me for feeding my kids six pounds of candy for dinner. It’s the one night of the year that all of those righteous mom bloggers with their “healthy alternatives to chicken fingers” and meal plans that contain actual vegetables can suck it. The retail industry says it’s okay for my kids to eat this crap on October 31; who am I to argue with the retail industry?
But mostly, Halloween rules because it’s the only day of the year that it’s socially acceptable for me to stumble around the neighborhood drunk while my children ask the neighbors for food. And by “socially acceptable,” I mean it’s dark and I’m wearing a mask so nobody can tell how much I’ve been drinking.