You see, I love Halloween, and I love to sit on my porch, but unfortunately, those two things only happen on one night of the year. I live on a busy corner in a very small town, and while our porch is comfy and cozy, it's location is more conducive to Mexican Polka music and fast cars than anything else. Not that I don't enjoy Mexican polka, or fast cars, just not on the one day that children are trying to cross the street in the dark of night.
Halloween was my favorite holiday growing up. We always started our Halloweening at Sister Dubose's house. She was an older lady who lived in our neighborhood and who was a member of our congregation. She made these pink popcorn balls that took forever to eat, and almost broke teeth in the process. She would always invite us in for hot chocolate and after
My brother and I would trick-or-treat to Harrison Boulevard, the street with the biggest houses in town--at the least the part of town where we lived. We went from house to house and when we finished both sides of the street, we'd start again. Our pillow case bags were perfect receptacles for our precious loot.
Wearily, we'd make our way home where our parents (who spent the evening in perfect warmth and eating the full sized candy bars my dad insisted on giving out) would make sure that our candy was void of hidden razor blades or obvious poisons. Apparently, the M&M's always looked suspicious and were immediately confiscated.
My childhood was typical, average and absolutely wonderful. I ran free--especially on Halloween. Interestingly enough, my own kids don't trick-or-treat. They say it defeats the rule that we've laid out the other 364 days of the year, namely to never take candy from strangers. A few years ago, my daughter said to me, "Why go through all that work to freeze and get candy I don't even like? It's bad for my teeth, we can just stay home to pass out candy and watch a movie instead."
I was heartbroken. How did I fail to introduce the wonder of Halloween to my brilliant yet logical offspring??
No matter. Here I will sit, on my front porch, waiting for the first trick-or-treater to arrive.