16 Bags of Candy

You don’t believe me, do you? Well, take a look at my foyer stairs and you’ll see that I’m telling the truth . . .

Okay, well, that wasn’t a wholesale invitation for strangers to come over to my house. But we have enough candy to hopefully satisfy the rabid subdivisioner kids that have appeared over the last few years. And the babies who like to reach into the bowl and take handfuls of candy bags (though they don’t know any better – it’s cute in a way).

However, no matter how much we want to give the children of Republican parents the candy bags full of only four (miniscule) Sweet Tarts, the kids are generally well-behaved, cute in their costumes and thankful when they get their treat bags. I always dress up for the little boogers because they tend to like it when a Greek goddess, a medieval princess or a Stanley Cup (yes, really) greets them at the door. The younger ones tend to ooh and ahh, asking me where my god or prince or Stevie is; the older ones grin, either mocking me or relieved that, even though they’ll get older, Halloween never loses its glow. I think it’s part mocking, part relief; after all, they’re twelve. Aren’t they a little old to be trick-or-treating? But they’ll never be too old to dress up, damnit.

The candy will fly, let me tell you that. Ten years ago, we got barely a whisper of Halloween around our neighborhood; instead, I’d wake up to TP’d trees or smashed pumpkins. Now, with the arrival of a subdivision (which I still wish wasn’t there – sorry kids), we get a ton of kids clamoring for candy, candy, candy! We get Belle, we get Snow White, we get soldiers. We get the Incredible Hulk, Superman and hippies. We get them all; I have a feeling that this year we’ll be getting a bunch of Sponge Bob Square Pants (that is the freakiest looking show . . .).

Even though it leaves less candy for me, it’s always fun to see the kids playacting for one night. Some really get into character, speaking to me only in pirate-speak; others are shy but will proudly declare what they are when you ask them about their costume. I particularly love to see girls dressed up in what others would deem ‘male’ costumes – hey, I dressed up as a Transformer one year in grade school. That was the best costume ever.

I digress.

They start showing up around 7pm. One father stuffs a bunch of heroes, princesses and cartoon characters into a wagon and carts them from house to house via tractor. Other parents just walk, trusting that the usual speeders will slow down a bit given it’s Halloween. Still other parents prefer to drive their kids, especially if it’s cold (though, from experience, it’s really less fun when you have to ride in a car where your costume won’t be seen). No matter how they get to my place, the fact is that they get there. And they want candy, damnit!

But also compliment them on their costumes. They love that.

By 9:30pm, it’s quieted down. After that point, we get the lone kid still driving around with his parents, or that one last big group that makes my sister’s heart plummet – we need candy too, damnit! The night finally wraps up at 10pm at the latest; Halloween is over for another year.