I love Halloween. One of my favorite pictures  shows the three of us sprawled out on the green living room carpeting, candy bags slumped to the side, candy bars everywhere, makeup caked and smeared.

Chris is dressed as the Hulk. He’s wearing an olive green sweatshirt of Dad’s, his face painted a similar shade of green; he’s peering into his bag quizzically. Jen is dressed as a devil with tiny plastic horns shooting through her brown hair. She’s sulking for some reason and can’t be more than five. She could be upset because we are not allowed Double Bubble or any type of sugar bubble gum and Mom and Dad have just hijacked her stash. Sadly, cavities were a natural part of Chris's visits to the dentist and as a result, we all had to suffer.

Dad took the gum to work and I guess the pharmacists used it to blow bubbles.

My sister doesn’t know it yet but as soon as she goes to sleep I will sneak into the hall closet where Mom hides our candy bags and steal all her Butterfingers and anything else she has in surplus. I can do this: she’s my little sister and won’t notice. My candy always lasts until Easter. This seems beyond her.

In this photo I am dressed as a mouse. I’m looking directly at the camera and holding the left ear away from my face. My mom used eyeliner to paint whiskers and freckles on my cheeks. I am smiling.

There’s a list circulating around the Web right now that mentions what a costume means to a person’s personality. Hulk? Devil? Mouse? There isn't much analyze.