Last night was Hallowe’en. Lovely Claire dressed Leo in a cute little cat outfit and took him to a few nearby houses for candy. We put out some candle-lit pumpkins, and I stayed home to man the candy bowl. Here are a few observations:

  • One “kid” came by sporting a bushy goatee under his mask. No joke, his chin was hairier than mine. I figure he was about 20.
  • Some kids held out the candy bag wearing no costume at all.
  • One group of about 6 white teenage guys came by sporting bling, gang-color scarves over their faces, oversized athletic wear, sneakers, and realistic toy machine guns.

Next year, I’d like to devise a way to slip messages into some of the candy wrappers in such a way that my note would go undetected until it’s opened. These special treats would sit in a separate bowl, waiting for the Hallowe’en party poopers to ring the doorbell. The little slips of paper would be wrapped around a big, oily, stinky black olive could carry quips such as:

  1. “Hey, Mr. Age-Of-Majority, perhaps you could get better candy next year if you just joined the workforce and bought your own.”
  2. “No costume? You’d have been less of a loser if you had just stayed home. Enjoy your olive.”
  3. “I liked your costume about as much as you’re going to like this.”

OK, maybe I won’t do it, but I’d like to.