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Show 'illjf by Teri Gomes When traditionalists grow up attention to holidays would hate to be thought of as a child any longer. She wears lip gloss, puts gobs of goop on her pretty blond hair to make it stiff and stylish and has a pair of low heels she wears to church. Yet for weeks she has been fussing about what she'll be for Halloween. At last count she had decided upon a cross between a Southern belle and Joan Collins of "Dynasty." My baby. Drive slowly past the two-story Cape Cod-style home on Little Kate Road in Park Meadows this week. You will notice Vinnie the Vampire and Seymore Bones proudly displayed in the windows. Why? Well, when I brought the dumb cut-outs home for Alpha Beta last week even my 13 year old, nearly six feet tall, giggled in that voice-in-search-of-an-octave. And it struck a vein with me, in a world where the nightly news talks about bombings someplace nearly every day, and technological changes by the minute that would send Einstein reeling, there are few constants anymore. If a couple of over-priced pieces of cardboard can help give a sense of continuity to a world that seems to move at a supersonic pace for emerging young adults, then maybe that's a part of providing a home that goes beyond the basic needs of shelter and is another expression of love-is-here-if-you-want-it, that seems so elusive with teen persons. . The other day when Jenny's little friend came over, she laughed at the skeleton in the window and the vampire with the blood dripping from his teeth. "Those are so silly," the little visitor said, "You know, my mom never gets decorations anymore." To which my own cherub replied, "Oh, we always do. Mom likes that stuff." How soon they forget. How do they get started? Little family traditions... I'm not talking about traditions which are rich in religious and folklore background. You know, the stockings on the mantle. The colored eggs hidden around the house. The turkey. The ham. No, I'm talking about little things that are particular to each family. Taking pictures on the first day of school: still pretty general. Eating at McDonald's when any errand requires you to go to Salt Lake: regional. Decorating the windows of the house for special holidays: silly. I heard those of you with elementary school and under-age children gasp a little at that "silly." But let me tell you, but the time you have two kids of middle-school age you have invested enough in Hallmark cut-out characters to pay for an entire year in a private university. So last year when both children reached middle school I didn't for the very first time, buy Halloween cut-out creatures to hang in the windows. And I didn't think either child noticed the difference. Ha. This year, about a week ago, my precious little ghoul, I mean girl, started in on me. "Mom, can we get some decorations to hang in our windows this year for a change? You know we never do." There it was, the absolute. Never. How soon they forget. I tried to remind my last-born of the decade or more of service I had performed in providing little cardboard elves and cupids and Uncle Sarn's and fluffy bunnies and chicks. The kid who gets such grand grades had sudden amnesia. "We never have decorations in our windows, Mom. Never." What's a mother to do? The little female who is urging this childish display of |