I’m hiding in my house with all the lights off tomorrow night. The neighborhood kids can go door-to-door begging for sweets, but they’re not getting anything from me-especially after the way they treated my kindness and good will last Halloween.
I don’t particularly care for strangers showing up on my doorstep-especially neighbors of mine that are none too neighborly until they want something…like my sweet sweet candy.
Also, the notion of toddlers going Trick or Treating who can’t even say “Trick or Treat” while being held by their doting parents just seems wrong to me. Kids should only be allowed on my door step if they can walk on their own, be tall enough to reach my doorbell and speak in clear sentences.
Why am I so bitter towards Halloween? Well, let me tell you about last year’s experience on October 31st: For some reason last year Spencer and I weren’t going to be home to give out candy, but I didn’t want to stiff the kids out of candy so I decided to create a self-serve-help-yourself Halloween display on the front porch of my house. I went to Target and bought several super-sized bags of candy. I got a big ‘ole bowl and filled it with my candy and placed it on the table outside for the neighborhood kids. I have to admit that I felt pretty good about myself for not stiffing the kids just because I had other plans that evening. In fact, I imagined how a younger me in the ‘70s might feel if I came across a porch step with help-yourself candy on the honor system. Two words: appreciation and delight!
Of course my faith in thankful, well-behaved neighborhood kiddies didn’t live up to my imagination of how the evening would turn out. Rather I experienced the sharp pang of my naiveté as I turned into the driveway to see all the empty Tootsie-Roll wrappers thrown all over my front lawn and more shockingly-my table tossed across the street into my neighbors yard. I simply couldn’t believe it. “Animals!” I thought to my self-righteous self as I walked across the street to reclaim my table and stooped to pick up as many loose candy wrappers that I could find. I don’t know what stunned me more: that the kids were ungrateful little bastards or the fact that my neighbors didn’t lift a finger to remove my table from their front lawn. Did they think a strong gust of wind delivered the table so unkindly onto their lawn?
I swore off Halloween from that day forward and that is why you won’t find my entryway lit in any sort of invitational manner tomorrow night. Instead, my doorstep will be dark as the night and inside you’ll find me re-watching an episode of Dexter in the comfort of my bedroom.
I’m hoping my very public shunning Halloween won’t in the end come back to haunt me. I don’t want eggs thrown at my house nor do I want to see toilet paper rolls in my trees. Instead I hope the little hoodlums from last year will walk by my house and recall that this was the lady who put such faith in their goodness.