For a small person, Georgia has big ideas about Halloween. We’ve made it through the stores, talking about the different costumes and decorations without buying, looked through the ads and laughed at baby costumes, and discussed what candy we will give out (Tootsie Pops). But there’s never been any doubt that we would make Georgia’s costume.

Georgia has known for months that she was NOT going to be a princess for Halloween, because princesses aren’t scary (to HER [0] anyway!). She is going to be a mean kangaroo, specifically Jane Kangaroo from the 1970 Dr. Seuss/Chuck Jones delight, “Horton Hears a Who!” [1] I figured that wouldn’t be so difficult: a tail, some ears, she’d be happy. But you may or may not remember that in the made-for-TV movie Jane Kangaroo has some pop-out spectacles, and uses them to brilliant and evil comic effect as she dismisses Horton’s assertions that there are people on the dust speck he is trying to save.

Georgia said, “I will have glasses that appear and disappear when I say ‘Pooh!’ and a little kangaroo in my pouch that says ‘Pooh!’ too.” I hoped the glasses detail would diminish as Halloween drew nearer.

The rest of the costume was of less consequence, though Georgia knew she needed a dress, even though this kangaroo has no clothes in either the book or the movie.

“Let’s make my dress for Halloween!” she said on Thursday, September 6. Not having a picture in mind, I asked her what materials she needed, and she said, “Some newspaper (that’s how I know the exact date) and some duct tape.” She started ripping strips of paper, and I tried to tape them into some kind of shape, following her general directions. When she declared we were finished, it was a nifty little newspaper dress, with a newspaper pouch for the small kangaroo who says, “Pooh!” too. The only thing left to do, she said, was draw mean monsters on the dress, so it would be scary. You know, for Halloween.

Last week I thought we should talk about the rest of the costume.

“What do you think Jane Kangaroo wears under her mean monster dress? Can you wear a coat under the dress, and we’ll make a tail and ears, and you can paint your face?” I asked.

“No, Mommy, Jane Kangaroo doesn’t have a painted face. I need glasses that appear and disappear when I say ‘Pooh!’ and a funny nose and something like a kangaroo color, with a tail.”

I thought maybe a trip to Goodwill would at least net us some sweats that I could turn inside out, and some glasses to try to work a miracle with. We walked through the aisles looking at anything vaguely kangaroo-colored. There was nothing that would work so I decided to check out the costume aisle. Maybe I’d be able to work with an old dog costume? But there on the racks, amid a couple of Lightning McQueens, snaggy nylon pirate garb, and princesses, we found not one, but two kangaroo costumes! Very lush, with a built in head/hood and a small kangaroo in the pouch. I did the sniff test and chose the freshest of the two, and we emerged from Goodwill victorious! Our excitement obscured that we had forgotten the glasses.

In another life of mine, long ago and far away, I used to plan things out. These days, I just get along, day by day, and sometimes I know what’s going on and sometimes I don’t. So going to the Goodwill a full two weeks in advance of Halloween made me feel pretty good! Next week, we’re hosting three of Georgia’s pals for a Teeny Halloweenie party, but beyond sending out the invites, and figuring out Georgia’s costume, I haven’t really got too far on it. It wasn’t until today that I thought about what could make a greener Halloween, so I searched around for some ideas.

A glance at Seattle’s Green Halloween [2] site left me feeling discouraged: organizing a house-to-house Trick or Treat party, complete with party games and healthful meal courses is beyond my capability right now! Some good and easy ideas come from Stop Global Warming [3], and I was pleased to see that I’ve somehow already made good on a bunch of them. We didn’t buy a new costume, we sent out email invitations, we’ll serve seasonal food on reusable dishware, we bought our pumpkins from a local farm where we experienced nature (in the rain and mud), we’ll eat the seeds and compost [3] the moldy old Jack-o-Lanterns, and Georgia will use the plastic pumpkin from my childhood to carry her treats.

The one big thing we aren’t doing is eschewing candy. The horrors of commercial candy [4] are many, from high fructose corn sweeteners and preservatives to unfair labor practices in the cocoa bean farms, and waste from packaging. Next year maybe I’ll give out Naturepops in cornstarch-plastic wrappers instead of my traditional Tootsie Pops. But I’m not going to stop Georgia from indulging in the booty from her block-long excursion, even though the candy surely won’t be organic [4] or fair trade [4], and certainly isn’t good for her. Halloween is one of her three candy-filled days a year, and she doesn’t actually gorge the way she imagines she will. She limits her candy intake better than most adults. And Trick-or-Treating is an exciting, scary, fun part of the Halloween experience for her.

Not that it couldn’t change; maybe if we can make the party fun the focal point, she’ll want to forget future Trick-or-Treating completely! Well, that’s unlikely, but at least there are some small steps, even on Halloween, that can lead to a big difference to help save our little dust speck of a world.

Now, if anyone has any idea how I can make some pop-up glasses, please let me know!