Halloween went down a storm in our house. Face paints, costumes, elaborate food and drink, games in the garden, a carved out pumpkin, loads of sweets, games in the conservatory. One of the boys won a prize at holiday club for his superb Frankenstein costume - his idea, Rachel's execution (scuse the pun). All five boys went to bed happy and exhausted from so much fun.
And we didn't go trick or treating, or encourage anyone else's children by answering the door.
Sorry. Call it a guilty conscience, but I am veteran of several tours of duty of various parts of Lancaster in the much more sinister Lancastrian ritual of Mischief Night every 4 November. Even now I barely dare to confront the horror and inconvenience we must have brought to so many households.