Who plans these things? Halloween? On a Sunday? Seriously? Why not just put it in the middle of the week? Right before some critical test? Maybe they're saving that for next year.
Of course, we threw caution to the wind and ducked when it blew right back at us. (I've got to remember to each Henry that lesson...) We had the usual dinner at Daryl and Michelle's, pictures on the stairs, then out into the cold and dark. The planners clearly screwed up because it wasn't raining.
There were surprisingly few people out on the streets. Or maybe they just came out later. We were out pretty early, I'll admit. With the oldest kids being seven (not counting me or Daryl) we wanted an early bedtime (for me and Daryl). Most of the other trick-or-treaters seemed to be in their mid-twenties. I think they were counting on one of the two following strategies:
1) Sex appeal. Think about it. It seems to be mostly the moms that take the kids out leaving the dads at home to hand out candy. A 23 year old coed comes to the door dressed in clothes that make me blush when I see Amy in our own house and yeah, candy galore. Dirty, but effective.
2) Fear. Dear Machiavelli said it was better to be feared than loved. The guys were definitely playing that angle. What is there to fear? Eggs. Flaming bags of excrement. Toilet paper. Keys on fancy cars. Pictures of the aforementioned coeds delivered to wives. Once again: dirty, but effective.
So we did a small loop, drove to the full-size candy bar neighborhood, dodged the two kids that really scared Henry, and then retreated.
The kids had neglected to eat dinner so we held to a hard line. No dinner? No candy! (Yeah, that would come back to haunt us. Stay tuned.)
On the upside, we now have three large buckets of candy.