Completely Unscientific Survey
Oct. 17th, 2012 08:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Gather 'round, all you internet people and listen up, because Professor Amelia needs a hand with some research.
Specifically, I'm wondering about a particular trait of That Mom.
I'm sure quite a few of you, back in childhood or now with parenthood, have had to contend with That Mom. You know, the one who thinks all downtime is wasted time, who serves on every possible church, school, and neighborhood committee, and who still organizes and closely supervises playdates for her 16-year-old son.* THAT That Mom.
Here's my question: when she would inevitably take it upon herself to Organize the trick-or-treating among you and your friends so that it would be safe and healthy and razor-free and boring as shit, was the mall ever an option? Did anyone ever brightly suggest, without a hint of irony, that the mall was hosting trick-or-treating and that it would be a GREAT way to spend Halloween? Or did they just try to convince you to stick with a safe well-lit party, like any sane zealously overprotective parent afraid of poison candy?**
I always thought the mall option was a standard lame option, but my friend from Boston said she'd never heard of such a thing until moving here. (She had also never heard of doing trick-or-treating only within one's own ward, but I can believe that because yeah, that is pretty much a Utah thing.) So my question for all you non-Utahns out there is: WAS that an option? Did the That Moms of the world all leap at the chance to have a nice well-lit Halloween? Or was that just a Utah variation of That Mom?
And if there weren't any mall options, were there, god forbid, OTHER lameass possibilities that they suggested instead? Because if there's one thing That Mom knows, it's that lame is the best way to do things. Much safer that way.
*And actually uses the term "playdate."
**Fun Fact: The only actual, documented case of poisoned Halloween candy is from 1974, when 8-year-old Timothy O'Bryan died after eating Pixy Stix laced with cyanide. The culprit was not some random happy-go-murderer, however--it was his father, Ronald Clark O'Bryan, who had just taken out a life insurance policy on little Timmy.
Specifically, I'm wondering about a particular trait of That Mom.
I'm sure quite a few of you, back in childhood or now with parenthood, have had to contend with That Mom. You know, the one who thinks all downtime is wasted time, who serves on every possible church, school, and neighborhood committee, and who still organizes and closely supervises playdates for her 16-year-old son.* THAT That Mom.
Here's my question: when she would inevitably take it upon herself to Organize the trick-or-treating among you and your friends so that it would be safe and healthy and razor-free and boring as shit, was the mall ever an option? Did anyone ever brightly suggest, without a hint of irony, that the mall was hosting trick-or-treating and that it would be a GREAT way to spend Halloween? Or did they just try to convince you to stick with a safe well-lit party, like any sane zealously overprotective parent afraid of poison candy?**
I always thought the mall option was a standard lame option, but my friend from Boston said she'd never heard of such a thing until moving here. (She had also never heard of doing trick-or-treating only within one's own ward, but I can believe that because yeah, that is pretty much a Utah thing.) So my question for all you non-Utahns out there is: WAS that an option? Did the That Moms of the world all leap at the chance to have a nice well-lit Halloween? Or was that just a Utah variation of That Mom?
And if there weren't any mall options, were there, god forbid, OTHER lameass possibilities that they suggested instead? Because if there's one thing That Mom knows, it's that lame is the best way to do things. Much safer that way.
*And actually uses the term "playdate."
**Fun Fact: The only actual, documented case of poisoned Halloween candy is from 1974, when 8-year-old Timothy O'Bryan died after eating Pixy Stix laced with cyanide. The culprit was not some random happy-go-murderer, however--it was his father, Ronald Clark O'Bryan, who had just taken out a life insurance policy on little Timmy.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-18 03:25 am (UTC)Of course, we didn't really have any malls here when I was a kid... And I wasn't allowed to trick or treat at all because my Dad thought it was begging. I WAS permitted to dress up, and to go to the school haunted house thing. But no trick or treating.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-18 03:41 am (UTC)