A Memoir on Halloween Traditions, Chocolate Negotiations, and Two Very Different Boys
Setting: October 2026 — A cold and windy night, somewhere between inflatable costumes and Halloween candy
Every year, my mom and I take the boys to our town’s Halloween party and trunk-or-treat. This year, Caleb went as an inflatable Garfield, and Holden went as a giant inflatable dinosaur.
It was cold. It was windy. And apparently, inflatable costumes are not particularly well suited to either of those conditions.
Holden’s battery pack kept coming loose, causing his dinosaur to deflate at inconvenient intervals. One minute he was a towering orange reptile. The next, he was a small boy surrounded by an unreasonable amount of fabric.
Caleb, meanwhile, eventually decided he had spent enough time being Garfield. About halfway through the festivities, he took off the head and deflated the rest of the costume. Apparently, there is only so much time an eleven-year-old is willing to spend inside an enormous orange cat.
After an evening of battling the wind, malfunctioning dinosaur equipment, and Garfield’s early retirement, we finally headed home with our Halloween candy.
And that was when the boys demonstrated, in the span of about thirty seconds, exactly how different they are.
Caleb has never been a particularly big chocolate fan. So when we got home, I figured I might as well ask.
“Caleb, since you don’t like chocolate, can I have some of yours?”
He considered this.
“Well… I do kind of like chocolate. It’s not my favorite, but I’ll eat it.”
Of course he would.
This is Caleb. He is not especially interested in giving away something that belongs to him, even if that something is a candy he doesn’t particularly enjoy.
Before I could negotiate further, Holden, who had overheard the conversation, immediately spoke up.
“Mom, do you want some of my chocolate? Have as much as you want. Have it!”
I hadn’t even asked him.
And that is Holden.
The same boy who will offer you half his food, give away something he loves, or insist you take something simply because he thinks it might make you happy.
Caleb, meanwhile, had made a perfectly reasonable case for retaining ownership of his chocolate.
Neither response surprised me in the slightest.
These boys have been different from the beginning. Caleb is thoughtful, analytical, and fiercely protective of what belongs to him. Holden leads with his heart, often giving things away before he has even considered whether he might want them himself.
Same Halloween party. Same cold night. Same bags of candy. One boy explaining why he needed to keep his chocolate. The other practically begging me to take his.
And somehow, in one tiny exchange over Halloween candy, there they were.
Exactly who they’ve always been.
This post is part of my One-Minute Memoir series — short reflections on small moments that still manage to say something big.
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