Halloween is not my favorite.

I think my main issue is the whole costume thing. Combine serious creativity deficits with a lack of manual dexterity and you’ve got yourself some pretty sad little costumes.

The first year we took Zeke trick-or-treating for real, he was about three. As usual, the whole activity snuck up on me, so two days before, I tackled a crafty co-worker and strong-armed her into making bunny rabbit ears and putting them on a headband. Then I went home and fished out a gray hoody that hit Zeke at his knees, super-glued a large wad of cotton balls together, and then super-glued what wasn’t stuck to my hands onto the back of the hoody -- instant cottontail. I cut some holes in the hood, stuck the headband and ears on his unsuspecting little head, shoved the ears through the holes in the hood, and slapped some gray sweatpants on him. Then I marched him to the bathroom where I subjected him to a pink lipstick bunny nose. He turned into a somewhat diabolical bunny when all I could find for whiskers was black eyeliner. One of his ears was drooping before we ever left the house, and that was before we dragged him in and out of his carseat 47 times.

By the time we’d finished, his ears were decidedly listing, and he was thoroughly confused, but pleased none-the-less with his haul. Who knew you could just walk up to someone’s door, stick out a bucket and get back enough sugar to last a year, if you can keep your parents out of it.

Fast forward through several years of rodeo clown outfits thrown together from Mike’s cut-off jeans, and a pair of suspenders from I have no idea where, a football player born of the backyard set of pads and a helmet we tossed and they landed on Zoey, one or two random store-bought costumes that lasted approximately 30 seconds, and you’ll end up at the Lightning C with one of the original rodeo clown outfits.

A few years ago, we decided to extend our costume dysfunction to the horses and attend the horse-and-rider Halloween costume contest.

I had graduated to a hot-glue gun by this time, so I hot-glued a pair of those Christmas reindeer antler headbands to a halter and put it on Sarah the horse. Zeke put on his cammo, and took his “deer” to the arena. I couldn’t believe it when they got second.

I thought it a very successful first hunting trip, myself.

Zoey donned her rodeo bull fighter ensemble, and, as per tradition, her father did her makeup. That would sound odd coming from any other family.

Anyway, we have this great big gray horse blanket, so we put it on Zoey’s horse of choice, and wadded up some material to put under it to make a hump. I drew my hot-glue gun from its holster, pasted some paper towel rolls with pointy ends to the sides of the halter (horns, don’t you see?) and she was off with her “Brahma bull,” who was actually a mare. We tried to make a little bailing wire nose ring, but she kept sneezing it out and smacking her bull fighter in the head with it, so we gave up. Actually, the horns were a little lopsided, and somehow made her look more like a cartoon Viking horse, but I do the best I can.

We were all unprepared, but the “bull” least of all, when the speakers shorted out right above her head, just as they were parading in front of the judges. I realize it isn’t grammatically correct to use ‘bull’ and ‘her’ as the same subject, but that’s just how the story goes. Anyway, she snorted loud enough to make any Brahma proud, then busted a move, with Zoey waving around on the end of the lead rope.

Needless to say, I ended up with the bull, whose hump had slipped precariously to the side, while the bull fighter stumbled back out to the trailer to gather her pride and her feed bucket she planned to use to collect candy at trick-or-treating. I thought it was appropriate, especially since I’d forgotten to go get some of those little plastic Halloween tubs normal people use. Besides, a feed bucket will hold more any day of the week.

Last year, Zeke gave up all together, claiming to be much too old to worry about Halloween. I think he just got tired of worrying about what I might not come up with this time.

Zoey borrowed a jockey outfit from a friend of mine who once rode race horses. I thought it was awesome. I didn’t have to come up with anything at all. We even recycled the feed bucket idea.

We heard they’re having a pet costume contest in town this year. We decided our best bet was to take a horse and a dog. We’re going to dress them up as a horse and a dog. How could they not win? You can’t get more authentic than that.

Meanwhile, Zoey’s sticking with the clown standby. She knows how it traumatizes me to try and be creative.

Mandy Carter is a staff writer for the News-Capital. Contact her at 421-2027 or send e-mai to mcarter@mcalesternews.com,