Bernard O'Shea: Halloween is going to be me getting tricked by my kids

I’ve devised a cunning plan to curb my kids corn syrup intake for Halloween 2022

At home last week, my mother laughed: “I remember when you were small, you said to me, ‘Why do we have to have Halloween at all’.” I was indeed terrified of ghosts and goblins. I was so bad that I didn’t sleep properly for years after seeing the witch in The Wizard of Oz. (Which, by the way, is still terrifying.)

I was frightened basically of everything. The only reason I would go on the puca was to get my hands on some sweet sugar.

There was also an expectation that you had to do something for your treat. The most bizarre was money being placed in the bottom of a basin of water that you had to retrieve without using limbs, only your mouth. I swear I saw some of my friends nearly choke for 20 pence. They should have had careers as free divers. I can’t imagine anyone putting a basin of water in front of my kids on a damp doorstep on Halloween night. If they saw it, they would probably think the householder was disinfecting the coins for them.

But back to the sweets. I’ve already overheard some sugary conversations in our house.

“I’m storing mine under the bed,” my six-year-old boy told his older sister, “and if I’m sent to my room for being bold, I’ll have a secret stash.”

Last year they got so many treats that I was still finding Maoam bars around the house at Christmas. So I’ve devised a cunning plan to curb their corn syrup intake for Halloween 2022. As an aside, I’m not anti-sugar. I know I probably should be, especially when it comes to the kids. But I’ll embarrassingly admit I have, on several occasions, calmed the toddler tantrums in the isles of Dunnes Stores by opening the Fredo bars before we got to the checkout. One of my more embarrassing parenting quotes has been: “If you take the full spoon of Calpol, I’ll give you a Curly Wurly.”

So this Halloween, I’m going to give them a choice. For every treat they give over to me for the sweets bank (working title, it’s just a bag for life I keep in the boot of my car that’s full of junk), they get to choose from a list of fun activities to do. But there’s a catch I’ve secretly disguised the “fun activities” as chores.

Here’s my list so far:

• Two Freddo bars allow you to do your homework on the big bed, and when you finish, you can watch one episode of the Loud House;
• With two packets of jellies, you get to run a massive bubble bath with loads of bubbles;
• Two Curly Wurlys or Freddo bars and I will let you rearrange your toys in any fantastic way you want (essentially tidy your fecking room).

The two boys were massively enthused when I started to tell them my plan. They began to come up with their own, like: “If I give you all my sweets, will you let us walk around the house in our underpants for the whole day?”

But our eldest daughter, who’s eight, wasn’t buying it. After my elevator pitch, she took the opportunity to debrief me. “I know what you’re doing, and that might work for the boys, but I’m not tidying my room and giving you my treats,” she said with utter confidence. “I know there’s a bag in your boot where you keep the sweets too,” she was onto me.

I laid my cards on the table. “I don’t want you to overeat junk this year. You’ll be sick.”

“How about this,” she said, “I’ll give you all the ones I don’t like, and I get to watch extra episodes of Barbies Dream House?”

Without hesitation, I shook her hand. When I proudly told my wife later about our side deal, she looked at me and started to laugh. “She wasn’t going to eat the ones she doesn’t like anyway, you idiot.”

So I put my tail firmly between my legs and returned to her. “Remember the deal we did about the sweets?” She knew there was something wrong. “We shook hands on it, Daddy, you can’t break it now.”

Just as I was about to explain to her the ills of too much sugar, she snapped: “You can buy them off me.”

I knew this was the best deal I was going to get. So this Halloween, I’m the one who was most definitely tricked for treats.