My earliest memory of Halloween is not exactly pleasant. I was in the first grade and my mom dressed me up as Barbie so I could partake in my elementary school’s festivities. The smaller-than-should-be-allowed nostril holes on the plastic mask I wore over my face made it hard to breathe. My mother’s solution? She took her house key and wriggled it around the holes until they got bigger. The metal of the key left embarrassing gray marks all over Barbie’s face and off I went to school to be tormented. Halloween never really got better for me after that.