Scary Halloween Story

That's me. I'm the scary Halloween story. Frighteningly grouchy old woman that you wouldn't want to run into on a lighted front porch step. I've been out guarding my candy bowl with teeth glinting, a slight growl in my throat. "Candy, my pretty?" I say, then I yank the bowl away from the crying little Spiderman child. Moowwahahahaha!

Perhaps I exaggerate slightly. But I am annoyed on this All Hallow's Eve. Let me share it with you, thus making my burden lighter. First, I am annoyed by medium-sized wretches who come unclad (so to speak) to my home demanding treats. Look. Here's the deal: Trick or Treat. Translated, that is a contract meaning:

You, party of the first part, will show up at my (party of the second part) doorstep looking cute and/or scary (the heretoforementioned Trick). You, party of the first part, will show up at my (party of the second part) doorstep politely asking for candy (the heretoforementioned Treat) .

You, party of the first part, will show up at my (party of the second part) doorstep and say "Thank you" or something similarly appropriate when I (party of the second part) drop any candy in your bag. Even if you don't like that particularly piece of candy. Because I (party of the second part) paid for it and it's a gift to you and damn it, don't look this gift horse in the mouth or I . . . get cranky.

In exchange, I, party of the second part, will open my door and greet you (party of the first part) in a friendly, nay convivial fashion. I, party of the second part, will exclaim glowingly about your costume the heretoforementioned Trick), even if it sucks. And I, party of the second part, will drop a piece or two (if you're particularly cute, funny, scary or polite) of candy (the heretoforementioned Treat) into your greedy little hands.

Nowhere in that contract is there a word about giving candy away to middle-sized munchkins who come inappropriately dressed to my porch. I am not required, nor am I inclined, to give candy to children, teenagers or young adults who do not make at least a weak attempt at a costume. I, party of the first part, provide the Treat. You, party of the second part, provide the Trick. And that trick is a costume, not the tricky fact that you, preteen uberhudlum, are getting away with candy for free by trick or treating without a costume.

Thing Two about which I am annoyed. This is a new and startlingly odd annoyance. This is the first year that I had Adult Trick or Treaters. What I mean by that phrase is: An Adult, dressed in a costume, carrying a bag around and asking for treats for themselves, not a child at home in bed with pneumonia.

Now, personally, me? I'd love to get a bag of candy for free. Particularly if it were free of calories. :-) But it does seem a touch, I dunno, inappropriate? out of place? immature? for adults to be out scrounging for candy among the three year olds. And I'm not talking about Just-Adults. Not talking about the 18 to 21 crowd. Still too old, but I'll feed them as long as they follow the contract as stated above. I'm talking Moms. And they were all Moms, come to think of it. I'm talking Moms walking their kids--and not so little kids--around the neighborhood.

What are these women thinking? If you want candy, hon, go to the store and buy a bag of Hershey Kisses and hide them in your pantry. That's the time-honored way a Mom gets her candy fix. Not by carrying a pillow case around with her 10 year old. Sheesh.

Finally, I am faintly annoyed by the fact that the Fairies and Darth Vaders who visited my home this evening took all the good stuff and left me with nothing but Jaw Breakers. Is that some kind of sick joke or what? Old people have TMJ; they can't eat Jaw Breakers. Now I'm going to have to break into my stash of Hershey Kisses hidden in my pantry. Or steal some out of my daughter's pillow case. Certainly a more honorable solution than Mom Trick or Treating!

Until tomorrow,
Liz