I don’t really get into Halloween in the dressing-up and partying sense, but I do fully embrace my Halloween homeowner duties. I hang orange-colored lights and put out plug-in pumpkins. Heck, this year I even got around to carving a real pumpkin, thanks to a lovely girls’ night in last week. And I buy candy for the Trick-or-Treaters. I buy really good candy. The Modern Love Machine and have been determined to earn the reputation of being the house with the good candy.
The thing is, just because you buy it, doesn’t mean they’ll come. In the two previous years living in our house, we had maybe two kids total show up. It’s a tough job to eat all that leftover candy, so it’s a handy thing that we buy the good stuff. This year we got the mixed bag of mini M&Ms, Twix bars and Snickers, so I was really looking forward to the guilt-free consumption of the leftovers.
Damned if we didn’t have about 20 kids show up at our door tonight. Those sugar-plum tinted dreams of eating Twix bars for the next two weeks melted a little bit more with every cute little dinosaur and half-assing high school student that knocked on the door. Now that the word’s out about the house with the good candy, I’m not sure how I feel about it. I do know that I’m blaming the pumpkin on the left, though.
I guess we’ll have to buy two bags of the good stuff next year.
P.S. I floated home from work on an empty gas tank and stopped at the BP station around the corner from our house to fill up. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who needed gas.
I wonder how many tanks it takes to get to the Death Star from Knoxville?