You forgot, didn’t you?

It’s OK.

You’re under a lot of stress.

Work’s a killer. Your boss is cranky. Your spouse is cranky. That burnt mouse smell is back in the car and the dog keeps leaving little green presents on your new rug.

Oh, and there’s two wars ranging across the globe and with House Republicans divided and no resolution in sight in three weeks the U.S. faces a government shutdown that would impact millions of Americans. 

So it’s totally understandable that you might have forgotten about Halloween.

You’re probably thinking, I bet now’s a good time to figure out what politically correct, fire-retardant, hypoallergenic, non-toxic costume my little Sally or Timmy should wear. Not that Timmy can’t wear a Sally costume or Sally can’t go around in a Timmy outfit. Anything is fine — except a clown costume. Poo Bozo.

You could play it safe and expensive and get the always popular Captain America costume (shield not included) or the always-popular Little Mermaid (fin not recommended).

Or Spider Man. Paw Patrol. Barbie, Dinosaur. Cowboy. Vampire. Whatever’s available at whatever price.

But not this year. Save your money. You don’t have to buy a thing.

I’ll share with you my mom’s answer for the perfect inexpensive, homemade last-minute Halloween costume that fits all sizes, boy or girl, that I got to be year after year after year after year — you get the point.

The hobo.

Yes, from the same woman who showed us that a little ketchup could ruin any pasta dish, Roz Lewis would ruin our Halloween costume dreams by putting shoe polish on our cheeks, nose and forehead, give us my dad’s oversized shirt and pants, and instantly create a hobo outfit that, in her mind, could outdo any store mask and costume.

Mom’s rationale was pretty simple. Why go out and buy a costume that everyone was wearing when she could make me an original one?

What mom never really grasped is that it was cool to be Superman or Batman and hide behind a plastic mask. It’s hard to be cool wearing shoe polish and your dad’s clothes.

On the flip side, I never had to worry about a wardrobe malfunction.

Remember those plastic masks with the thin rubber bands that were stapled on them so they could stay on your head? You could wear those masks around the house for months and pull on the bands and they’d be fine.

But come Halloween, the staples would give out the second you rang the bell at your first trick-or-treat house. The rest of the night you’re forced to hold your mask up with your hand.

Not fun.

When our boys were really boys, I’d suggest to my wife we go with the hobo costume.

“A trio of hobos! What could top that?” I asked, looking for the shoe polish.

She agreed that we could stay away from the store-bought costumes but ignored my hobo pitch, instead pulling out her homemade designs.

One year, she crafted M&M costumes for the boys.

Another year they were lions, with full manes and a cage that she converted from their stroller.

Next year, they were prison inmates, again with a revamped stroller.

Those costumes were great. Homemade and smart.

Not that it matters.

You see, in the end, Halloween isn’t about what costume your kid wears. Throw a bed sheet over them and cut out two holes so they don’t trip.

It’s about the candy they bring home for their parents.

barrylewisscdemocrat@gmail.com.

Barry Lewis is a longtime journalist and author who lives with his wife Bonnie in the Town of Neversink. He can be reached at      barrylewisscdemocrat@gmail.com.