A grown-up is just the sort of person who will come bounding home from the shop with four pumpkins, grinning like a loon.
A grown-up might put on Thriller and dance all over the sofa in a most un-grown-up-like fashion.
Any grown-up worth her salt will then cut holes in an old white bed-sheet so that you can run around the house like Casper, clocking the walls with your forehead because you've got the eye-holes on backwards.
A grown will bring you a cobwebby Halloween witch hat. And when the excitement reaches fever pitch, a grown-up will take you by the hand and lead you out into the gathering Halloween darkness.
For candy.Your one true love in this life. Your first thought upon waking, and your last thought before sleep.
|Not a turnip.|
You will break free from your now slightly twitchy grown-up and run to kiss your magical giant robot jack-o-lanterns goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the robot bugs bite.
Pacified and straight-jacketed at last, your certified grown-up will hold you tight and sing you a song. She will tell you how much she loves you and plant kisses on each cheek. You will fall into a contented slumber, the memory of kisses warm and velvety on your cheeks, like melting butter over Saturday pancakes.
|Fly my pretties!|
This is why you should never trust a grown-up. In spite of the fact that soup is delicious.
As your grown-up stirs a molten vat of giant robot carcasses, she will hum 'Thriller' contentedly to herself. She will think silly thoughts in the quiet of her cozy post-bedtime world. Thoughts like: 'First of all, it was October, a rare month for girls...'
You will eat the soup for lunch tomorrow and never suspect a thing. Which is another reason.