As expected, Wilson was desperate to go to the newly-opened Allsorts Xmas Shop at the top of the high street.
When we arrived, the town was heaving with people, and apparently the Mayor had just left after declaring the shop officially open.
It was no wonder it was crowded — apart from a general air of excitement and Xmassyness there were free balloons and mince pies, plus face-painting.
Wilson declined to have his face painted on the grounds that, sooner or later, I would insist on him washing it off, and his dislike of soap and water is legendary.
However, he accepted a mince pie and a big red Xmas balloon before making his way into the shop, which he described upon entering as, 'A Winter Wonderland!'
Wilson is still muttering about the advantages of a winter holiday — how the beaches won't be crowded, hotels will be cheap etc — but at the moment he's in the kitchen, baking.
He has decided not to go Trick-or-Treating this year, but instead to put something back into the celebration by preparing some treats for any Trick-or-Treaters who call on us.
'I've used EXTRA ANTS!' he told me proudly.
He also plans to open the door to them in as terrifying a way as possible (although he has not yet revealed how this is to be done).
At least when they regain consciousness after their fright, our young visitors can be revived with Fairy Cakes...
Last night Wilson stayed up late to watch the Orionid Meteor Shower — it peaked a few days ago, but he only found out about it yesterday.
He sat in the garden in a deckchair, (within easy reach of his Asteroid Shelter, just in case!) staring at the sky, accompanied by the sTone Brothers who said they would be there anyway, and in any event had nothing better to do.
At 10:30 I went out with a blanket and a mug of hot chocolate for him, but he was sound asleep and snoring, so I carried him gently indoors and popped him into the tumble dryer for the night.
Over breakfast this morning I asked whether he'd seen any meteors.
He answered my question with a question of his own: 'Do meteors travel in threes, quite slowly, and flash? And make a droning sound?'
'I'm not an astronomer,' I replied, 'but I'm pretty sure they don't.'
'Oh,' he replied with a shrug. 'Then it was probably just the EasyJet flight to Perugia that I saw...'
Once inside the shop, Wilson was transfixed by the magnificent array of fireworks on offer!
He eventually settled on the Gold Selection (which, as it happens, includes some of my childhood favourites as well as many other exciting-sounding pyrotechnics) and a packet of Giant Sparklers.
As W paid for his purchase, Mr James — the man who runs Allsorts — told him that these fireworks were made by the same company that made the fireworks for the London Olympics display, and that each and every one was 'packed full of gunpowder!'
As we were leaving, he added that he would be opening a special Christmas Shop in Uckfield on the 29th.
Wilson's face lit up — I imagine we'll be on the doorstep waiting for opening time that day...
Before we went home, Wilson popped in to ALLSORTS at the top of the High Street, to buy some 'Hallowe'en Essentials' as he describes them: Lanterns, Masks, Ghost outfits, Cobwebs, Trick-or-Treat Goodies Bucket and so on.
I would have thought we had enough of this stuff left over from last Hallowe'en but, like his bucket and spade, W insists on replacing everything each year because 'The scaryness wears off'.
As he approached the shop, he saw a banner advertising fireworks! He told me later that he had 'Totes forgotten about Bonfire Night,' due to his excitement about Hallowe'en.
However, the thought of fireworks drew him into the shop like a pin drawn to a magnet, powerless to resist...
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In the UK we celebrate with fireworks not on July 4 but November 5, commemorating Guy Fawkes not killing King James I in a Roman Catholic plot in 1605.
Effigies of Fawkes are still burnt today — we really know how to hold a grudge!
The celebration is variously known as Bonfire Night, Fireworks Night or Guy Fawkes Night.
