Halloween 2026 recap

Halloween is probably my favorite holiday. Well, favorite after Christmas, with all the singing, gifts, and engineered chaos. Okay, Thanksgiving is pretty great too. I love the togetherness and the food. Well, we can't forget the Fourth of July: bikinis and grilled hot dogs. What more could a girl ask for?

Okay, now that I think about it, I just love any opportunity to create a huge, chaotic mess with the people I love. And certainly Halloween fits that bill.

If I think really hard, I'm pretty sure I have spent every Halloween in the neighborhood where I grew up, with only two exceptions. Those were my college days in Lubbock, where I rocked the "slutty vampire" and "Lil' Bo Peep in thigh-highs" costumes. But as much fun as I had, I more or less always wanted to be back on my home street, walking around with my sisters in our nearly matching dirndls, having spent all day braiding our hair to match a picture of our very German great-grandmother in the 1930s in Fredericksburg.

When we started having kids, it became even more imperative.

Last year we flew back to Texas for Halloween, but this year we decided to do something new. My sisters and their kids would come to us, and we'd have an Arizona Halloween.

We started making plans back in March, but after the massive blowup between my younger sister and me over the summer, part of the arrangements became: We will not fight. No matter what!

For the most part, we did a great job.

Especially considering that, at one point, the roster of inhabitants of my 2,200-square-foot home included, in the adult category: me, Bubs, older sister Jennifer, younger sister Jessica, younger brother Brian, and his wife Evie.

We almost had one adult for every kid. Maddie, 16; Aiden and Abby, 10; Kylee, 9; Laney, Jacob and TJ, 8; and bringing up the rear, the new baby of the group, my little Ashley, at 19 months.

If you look at the age distribution, you'll notice we've always had Maddie to help keep the younger kids in line.

Maddie will always have a special place in our family. There's a saying I've heard repeated in various forms over the years that goes something like, "The first daughter of the first daughter in the family can do no wrong."

Well, not only is Maddie the first daughter of the first daughter, she also joined our family when Jennifer was going through a particularly rough spot with her now-husband. When Jenn needed somewhere to live with a newborn on the way, my parents insisted she move home, and all of us pitched in to help Jenn raise Maddie during that time.

She's always been more than just the oldest cousin. She's been part of the whole family operation from the beginning.

I knew there was going to be trouble when Bubs and Brian took Maddie for a jog around the neighborhood. She's a cross-country runner back home and didn't want to miss a workout. I happened to see our 17-year-old neighbor's jaw literally drop as she ran past, apparently not all that deterred by the fact that Maddie was accompanied by her two uncles.

Apparently, he eventually got up the gumption to come to our house and introduce himself, making sure that even though she's from out of town, Maddie was very much invited to the party.

Jess, Evie, and I were out in Tucson, because had I been home, I would have said absolutely not. Never mind the fact that I'm not her mother.

But Jenn asked Bubs if we knew the family, and my utter idiot of a husband should have replied, "Oh yeah, they're a drug-dealing biker gang. Keep her away."

Instead, he responded with, "Oh yeah, I know the dad from base. In fact, I helped him prep for his PT test. Super nice people, and they told me the parents will be home for the party and asked us to please let them know if the noise was bothering us."

Damn it, Bubs. The truth is not always the best thing when it comes to the 16-year-old niece I was in the delivery room for.

Jenn told Maddie that her younger cousins were counting on her being there for at least part of trick-or-treating, but after that wrapped up, she could go to the party.

Excuse me?

Jess and I made a secret plan that this would be the most epic trick-or-treating death march of all time. We would make sure the party ended before Maddie had a chance to attend.

Well, as luck would have it, we had a truly record-breaking rainstorm on Saturday, and trick-or-treating was all but done by 7:15.

Maddie had followed the theme of several of the other kids and was dressed like a Jedi. But how did she manage to look so cute in space robes?

Jenn and Craig walked down to the party with her to make sure everything was on the up and up. They returned a few minutes later, having talked to the parents, and assured us Maddie would be just fine.

The rest of us settled in for a rainy night of Hocus Pocus (both 1 and 2) and every other Halloween movie and TV show we could find, while the younger kids proceeded to make a popcorn, candy, and couch-cushion disaster of our living room. This was helped along, no doubt, by my 27-year-old brother, who is more immature than all of them.

Slowly, it started to be 9:30. Then 10. No Maddie.

Jess and I were trading looks, and then looking at Jenn, who seemed totally unconcerned.

Jess mouthed at me, "Get your phone!"

So we started exchanging text messages.

Me: "Jenn's not concerned? Is she like this back home too?"

Jess: "Sort of...but I have Maddie's location so I feel like I'm a good backup. We know where she is, but have NO IDEA who she's with!"

Me: "I KNOW!"

Jess: "At least in Texas we pretty much know all her friends..."

Me: "When Jenny gets up next, let's walk over to the party?!?!"

Jess: "Deal."

So maybe ten minutes later, Jenn announced she'd had enough dirndl for Halloween and was going to go change.

Our moment.

As quietly as we could, we implored the other kids (meaning Brian) to behave themselves, and Jess and I announced we were going for a walk.

My eight-year-old: "You're going to go make sure Maddie's not pregnant, right?"

Both Jess and I stared daggers at Brian, who was emphatic: "I didn't tell him to say that, I swear!"

For once, I believed him. He wasn't the source of the trouble, and I hate to admit how right TJ was.

The party house was three doors down. We'd made it most of the way, but there, on a bench in the yard of the house between us, was Maddie, very enthusiastically kissing a boy I didn't recognize.

Jess and I froze, not quite sure what to do. Maddie must have sensed us because she came up for air, looked over, and said, "Aunt Dani? Aunt Jess? What are you doing?"

We responded almost in unison: "Looking for you!"

She started with the, "It's not a big deal. We were just talking..." explanation. The poor boy didn't have a hole to crawl into, like he obviously wanted to.

Jess said, "Say goodnight, Maddie. You're coming home."

Maddie looked at the boy and said, "Don't worry. These are just my aunts. My mom will let me come back."

I was like, "Maddie! There is no way your mom would approve of this. Let's go!"

So the three of us started making the walk back to my house, and Jenn, in her pajamas, was storming down the road and intercepted us.

We thought she was going to be furious with Maddie.

Nope.

She was mad at Jess and me.

She took Maddie aside and basically said, "You can go back...I'll handle these two" 

Maddie smirked at Jess and me and walked back toward the party.

Again, almost in unison, Jess and I said, "Jenn! She was kissing a boy! Outside!"

Jenn: "Yes, 16-year-old girls kiss boys, and my two psycho sisters are going to push that 16-year-old into more secrecy by being nosy and controlling!"

Jess: "You know we only care, and you have no idea who that boy was!"

Jenn: "I'm her mom. I probably shouldn't know all the boys she kisses! Jess, you were a little make-out queen. Did you tell Mom about all your secret kisses? Dani, did Mom ever embarrass you like that in front of Craig?"

Jess: "Well, no, of course not, but I'm not Maddie! And she's not at home!"

Me: "Jenn, we have a point. She doesn't know anyone at that party. Mom and Dad knew Bubs!"

Yeah, remember our agreement we'd made over the summer about not getting into a fight over Halloween?

We were headed straight for an epic meltdown, right there on my semi-rural street in the middle of the desert.

Jennifer issued what was supposed to be her killing blow:

"Dani, it will be three or four years before Abby is desperate to go to a party with new boys so she can make out with them! Get a grip!"

My brain was scrambling for the right phrase to both hurt her deeply and end the argument, because apparently our agreement not to fight had a fairly generous loophole for verbal warfare.

And then, from the bushes, came the voice of my adorable ten-year-old, who, along with her fellow ten-year-old cousin, had apparently snuck outside to spy on Jess and me, Maddie, and the entire developing family crisis:

"NO I WON'T, AUNT JENN! I HATE BOYS!"

I don't think any of us could have scripted a better ending to that argument.

We all started dying laughing.

Jenn must have decided that we'd made at least some sort of point, because she caught up with Maddie and told her she could go back to the party, but she wanted to see her in person at 10:30. After that, they'd decide whether she could stay longer.

Jess and I had to reluctantly agree that we are not Maddie's mom. And yes, as the mothers of girls ourselves, maybe her experience as the oldest girl cousin will be invaluable to us someday.

As it turned out, Maddie checked in exactly at 10:30. The party was wrapping up anyways, and her new Tucson crush walked her to the door, where they exchanged every form of social media they had.

Monday morning I loaded Jenn, Jess, and their five kids into the car and took them to the airport. There were hugs, bags, last-minute reminders, and the usual airport drop-off logistics.

Then I drove home.

And the house was quiet.

Really quiet--even Ashley's padding around and making random sounds didn't fill the void (as cute as she is).

I am happy. I'm also a little heartbroken, which is an odd combination to experience after a weekend that included teenage make-out investigations, a dispute over parenting, children hiding in bushes and more rain than I ever thought I'd see in the desert. 

But I think that's the thing about these weekends.

When we lived in Texas, being together was ordinary. We could see each other whenever we wanted. The kids grew up together on the same streets, and there was always the assumption that we'd see one another again tomorrow, or the next day, or sometime later that week.

Now we live in different states, and getting everyone together takes planning, plane tickets, schedules, and a little bit of luck.

And when it happens, I find myself wanting to hold on to every minute of it--even if it means seeing my niece kiss a boy.

I'll agree with Abby here. I don't like boys either.

I want the kids to stay up too late. I want the living room to be full. I want to hear three conversations happening at once. I want Jenn correcting us, Jess encouraging us, Brian starting massive amounts of trouble, and all of us simultaneously deciding that something entirely unnecessary is suddenly essential.

I even want the arguments, apparently.

I suppose that's what I miss most. Not just the holidays or the traditions, but the ordinary business of being sisters. The ability to get on one another's nerves, make up, start another ridiculous project, and assume we'll all be doing it again next weekend.

We don't have that luxury anymore, so when we do get it, I want every bit of it.

Even the parts where we're standing in the middle of the street arguing about a teenage boy while two ten-year-olds hide in a bush.

Especially those parts, probably.