Trick or treating tires them out. We hit one side of the main drag of the neighborhood and Adolpha was ready to call it quits. At each house she would weigh the pros and cons of carrying her heavy bucket full of candy up to another door. "What do you think they're giving out?" she'd ask me before she'd sigh heavily and plod up to the door, curiosity getting the better of her.
After about twenty houses, both kids were ready to call it quits. They wanted to go home and hand out candy instead. Sounded good to the Hubs and me. Especially to the Hubs. You see, October 31 starts his Grinchy holiday season. If you think I'm not crazy about the holiday madness, you should spend some time with the Hubs. Tonight he told me his Halloween family tradition: "We would turn off all the lights and make the house as dark as possible, but kids would still ring the bell. As soon as they'd ring the doorbell, we'd mute the television and hold our breaths until they finally went away."
It's like living with someone raised by wolves.
Although, after listening to many of the middle schoolers out trolling for candy tonight, I'm beginning to think his idea isn't so bad. Here are just a few of the gems I heard tonight from the pack of middle schoolers that were in front of us at most houses (can't wait until it's Gomer and Adolpha out there wilding and insulting the neighbors):
"Where's the chocolate?"
"Don't you have better stuff than this?"
"Is that all we can have?"
"What's your costume? Are you Santa Claus? No? Oh, well something about you reminds me of him."
"Hey you guys my phone is rubbing my leg raw. I've got to find a better spot for it. I wish this costume had pockets." (FYI - if you're old enough to carry a cell phone then you're too old to trick or treat at my house.)
"Oh my God, you guys, asking strangers for candy is so awkward."
My favorite tweens of the night were the ones who were the last visitors at my house. We'd come back and the kids were sitting on the porch with our enormous bowl of candy handing out treats. I was just coming out to tell them it was time to come in when I overheard this conversation:
Kid 1: I could just take that whole bowl of candy from you, you know.
Gomer: No you can't. We need it.
Kid 2: You should just give it to us. No one else is coming. We're the last group.
Adolpha: You can't have it. There might be more kids.
Gomer: It' doesn't matter. Our mom said only two pieces for each kid.
Kid 3: C'mon, either take it or let's go.
That's when I opened the door and stepped out on the porch and I saw three kids dressed like morphs. Can someone please tell me what the hell a morph is and why is it such a popular costume this year???
Me: What's going on?
Gomer: Those kids were going to take our candy.
Me: Oh is that right?
Kid 1: I was just kidding him.
Me: It didn't sound like you were kidding.
Kid 2: I love your daughter's costume. Is she a cow?
Me: No. She's a puppy and people have been calling her a cow all night. Look at her face paint and look at her ears. She is obviously a puppy. She hates it when people call her a cow.
Kid 2: Oh. I can't see very well. She kind of looks like a cow.
Me: Well, she's not and she's ready to start biting people to prove she's a puppy.
Me: Boys, I think you'd better run along before I let Adolpha get you.
|Do we look like cows? We are obviously spotted puppies, silly morphs.|
Ha. Those freaky morphs thought they'd just help us out by taking the last of our candy since we weren't going to have anymore customers. Don't those punks know that any left over candy always goes to the moms?
Photo: Kids Dressing Up Box