You see, the first trick-or-treaters come very early, long
before sunset. Our first little candy hunter arrived at around 5:30PM and
looked something like this:
He is our next-door neighbor, a child of around two years
old who was dressed as a lion. He was too scared to ring the doorbell, and when
I offered him candy, he looked not at me but at the two-foot plastic skeleton we’d
hung from the porch light. The Cowardly Lion was so transfixed by the skeleton
that he didn’t even glance at me when I put a piece of candy in his hand. When
his mom told him to say “thank you,” he started to cry.
That little guy got one piece of candy.
Worried about our supply and assuming the kids would
continue to come at this rate, I gave each kid two pieces of candy.
But by 7PM, the doorbell had really died down. It was dark
out now, and the kids were getting older. Many carried large satchels and pillow cases for their candy.
Suddenly, my fear turned around – we weren’t going to run
out of candy; we were going to be stuck with bags and bags of it! So I started
giving out handfuls to whoever showed up.
By 8, the
doorbell had pretty much gone silent. We started thinking up ways to get rid of
the extra candy – try to pawn it off on coworkers, family, friends, strangers,
stray dogs … anything to get it out of the house.
So when the doorbell rang at 8:30,
finding me desperate to get rid of the candy …
And there you have it – the progression of candy-rationing.
Get there right when the homeowners realize they're going to be eating Kit Kats til Christmas, and you just might win the candy Powerball.
While the costumeless hooligan may have won the most candy, he did not, however, win my heart.
My heart still belongs to this little fellow:
Too scared of a plastic skeleton to take his candy.
Awwwwwww.
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