I HAPPENED to be at home this year for Halloween and was more than bemused by some of the characters who appeared at my door.

Knock knock.

“Trick or treat,” shouted out a crowd of girls who looked to be about 12.

Now the girls looked as though they had gone to quite a bit of effort as they were all dressed as members of a wedding party, complete with bride, bridegroom, bridesmaid and mother-of-the-bride.

“In you come then,” I beckoned.

Despite giggling, they started to do their piece for Halloween.

The bride and bridegroom repeated a well versed poem.

The bridesmaid sang, Donald Where’s Your Troosers? which I thought was an unusual song choice for a girl of her age, and the mother-of-the-bride decided to give me a mouthful of unexpected jokes.

“How do you get your boyfriend to do sit-ups?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Put the remote control between his toes.”

“Very good,” I laughed.

But no one else did because they had obviously heard the joke a dozen times.

“What does a boyfriend and mascara have in common?”

I shook my head again wondering what was coming next.

“They both run at the first sign of emotion.”

Somewhat surprised by the cynical tone of the jokes from one so young, I clapped my hands and filled each of their bags with Halloween goodies.

“Can I just say how amazing you all look.”

I had my eye on the mother-of-the-bride who looked particularly glamorous.

“That’s her mum’s new dress,” blurted the bride.

“And her mum’s new designer handbag and shoes,” confessed the bridesmaid.

“Really?”

“Yep, and that’s her mum’s new fascinator,” the friends were quick to add.

After some questioning, it turned out that the young ‘mother-of-the-bride’ had raided her mum’s wardrobe and was wearing every piece of newly purchased wedding attire her mum had bought for a forthcoming wedding.

“I take it your mum doesn’t know you have ‘borrowed’ her wedding outfit for Halloween then?”

“No, but it’s OK.”

The young wedding guest couldn’t have cared less.

“I’ll have it back in her wardrobe before she gets home from work.”

And as she walked down my driveway I thought it best not to mention the fact that there were hundreds of mud splatters up the back of the sequinned dress.

After all, it was none of my business.

Chatting with friends about some of the fabulous outfits created for Halloween, I recalled one year while at secondary school, a crowd of us met to trick or treat together.

However, Eddie my classmate, appeared with one of the best creations I had ever seen.

“Major effort there Eddie.”

We were all in awe of Eddie’s Halloween outfit, mainly because the rest of us had made little effort and last minute had pulled together bits and pieces from around the house and stuck on a cheap plastic face mask.

But Eddie’s display was by far the most outstanding.

He turned up as a red telephone box.

Yes a red phone box.

And I can tell you, it must have been no mean feat creating such a masterpiece.

The giant egg box had been painted the perfect colour of red.

Windows were expertly cut out and made of silver crepe paper. And it even had a silver door handle and the lettering ‘TELEPHONE’ at the top.

Absorbing the full attention of the gang, Eddie beamed from ear to ear, as we gathered around the red phone box.

“So who made the phone box then,” asked one.

“Who thought up the idea,” asked another.

“What’s it made of?”

“Bet you cannae go for a pee with that on,” said another smart Alec.

However, as we stood admiring the phone box, suddenly, out of the blue, one of the guys in the crowd punched a hole in one of Eddie’s crepe paper windows.

“Argh... What did you do that for,” Eddie screamed, upset that his prize construction was now damaged.

“There was no need to smash my window.”

However, the culprit nonchalantly shrugged, but before he turned to walk away he smirked.

“Eddie, have you ever seen a phone box in Airdrie that disnae have its windaes panned in.”

Eddie was in a dazed state so didn’t answer.

“So, at least now it looks like a real phone box.”

And we couldn’t really disagree.