Last year on Halloween I woke up, threw on a pair of jeans and an orange sweater, and headed down to breakfast to discover my husband wearing the exact same outfit.

“We cannot go out in public like this,” I declared.

He looked at me over the brim of his coffee mug. “I don’t have time to change. I’m late for work.”

“I’m in a rush too!” I had permission slips to sign, two school drop-offs and a pile of laundry to deal with.

After some quick computing, we realized that nobody but our children would see us in the same place at the same time all day. Matching outfits it was — at least for Halloween.

That evening when I was on doorbell duty passing out candy to trick-or-treaters I started to worry about what identical outfits might mean. After 14 years of marriage, had we morphed into “that” couple? You know the people I’m talking about. The married couple that dresses alike. They plan educational family vacations, spend their weekends at Home Depot and get super excited when Starbucks brings back pumpkin lattes. Surely my husband and I were not as bland as that.

Or were we?

The evidence was not in our favor.

Already we drove an ancient Toyota with low mileage. We paid our bills on time. Our preferred hour to go out to restaurants was 6 o’clock. When we watched “Saturday Night Live” a few days later at 9 p.m. we usually had no idea who the musical guest was. We weren’t just middle aged, we were the vanilla-sandwich-cookies of middle aged. It hurt to realize how old we had become.

The first Halloween my husband and I spent together was at a party called The Mausoleum held over an actual gravesite. I was dressed as a scantily clad pirate and he was a skeleton from “The Karate Kid.” I don’t remember the specifics but I believe we hit two more parties afterward. At 3 a.m. we finally called it a night. I woke up with skeleton paint all over my face.

Now so many years later we were in matching pumpkin sweaters. Our biggest hope for the evening was that both kids would go to bed in time for us to watch Netflix. There’s value in having a stable life, and heck, binge watching Netflix is really fun, but no way am I wearing matching sweaters again.

So this Halloween was different. Last night my husband escorted the kids around the neighborhood in a full-on knight costume, complete with a wrapping-paper sword. I manned the front door in my Renaissance outfit, terrifying trick-or-treaters with my enthusiasm.

Once our kids were asleep we turned on some music and raided their candy stashes. We spiked our pumpkin lattes with rum. The big 4-0 is staring us down, but it doesn’t have to be spooky. Cheers to middle-aged fun.

Jennifer Bardsley lives in Edmonds. Her book “Genesis Girl” is scheduled to be released in 2016. Find her online on Instagram @the_ya_gal, Twitter @jennbardsley or at teachingmybabytoread.com.