For those of us who grew up in the 1980s, there are many things which we fondly remember about our childhoods.
I feel I got the best deal as I am benefiting from the digital revolution, but didn’t spend my formative years dealing with the pressures of social media at the same time as battling with spots.
I am also very grateful I have experienced an age when we weren’t seemingly obsessed with Halloween. While I do recall attending a Halloween party some 30 years ago, I also remember my Dracula costume being cobbled together: my mother’s old velvet skirt as a cape, some red lipstick smeared over my face and hair slicked back with gel.
Today, you can’t go into a supermarket without being overwhelmed by an array of spooky paraphernalia and the message has firmly stuck with the target market – kids.
In our house, the build-up to October 31 is nearly as intense as the weeks leading up to December 25 and it is not something I am particularly comfortable with.
With Christmas and Easter, the majority of us have a good idea what we are celebrating, but you would be hard pressed to find anybody in a zombie outfit who could explain the traditions of Halloween.
Despite my reservations, I have bought a pumpkin and, next week, will accompany my eldest when she visits the neighbours for trick or treating.
It is not something I was allowed to do as a child but now streets are full of youngsters armed with buckets.
Thankfully, in many parts of the country, Halloween runs smoothly and the vast majority of those on the streets adhere to ‘fright night’ etiquette such as only knocking on the doors of homes which display a lit pumpkin.
This approach adds to the commercialised feel which clings to this not-so-special evening.
I don’t know about you, but it all feels rather pointless and I have asked myself whether the 10-year-old me would have torn himself away from the A-Team to knock on doors to ask for biscuits.
I think you know the answer....