Every year since my son was born we’ve shared a few traditions. We go to the zombie walk in downtown Nashville, visit the pumpkin patch out in Nolensville and find what we need to make a Jack-O-Lantern, make said Jack-O-Lantern as he disembowels it and cheers triumphantly in a shower on pumpkin innards and goop, and finally, on Halloween night, we watch a “scary” movie, usually a marathon of Simpson’s Halloween specials until one or both of us pass out on the couch from a sugar coma caused by his trick-or-treat haul. Times, sadly, change. We’ve missed the last two Z walks due to my health and work schedule consecutively. While we made our scary pumpkin and bathed in the carnage of it’s pre-pie filling insides, our other Halloween tradition will go undone this year. Apparently, a nine-year-old would rather go to a sleep over with his cousin after trick-or-treating than sit on the couch with his old man and munch candy while watching “scary” shows. I don’t blame him. He’s getting older and it’s nice to see him becoming an independent little critter all his own. Still, it’s gonna be lonely this Halloween sitting on the couch, watching Treehouse of Horror with no one but a pumpkin to keep me company.