In our neighborhood, we gathered up our neighbors with kids, as well as a couple imports (friends from outside da 'hood). We roamed from door to door, skipping the obvious dead-ends-there seem to be too many these days. If it were merely a sign of people who don't celebrate, it might not be so depressing. but, the foreclosures 'round here look extra bleak on Halloween. I guess that's a posting topic for a political blogger. Or at least someone that gets their news from somewhere that doesn't start with Yahoo. Dunno.
About every 3rd house, lights were on, and we bounded up to the front door. Now, ya all know my commitment to being a Full Size Bar House. A few others have done the same (maybe I should start some sort of campaign next year, with colorful flyers, organized meetings, and bar-size commitment agreements? No? Okay, Honey, you're right. I will let someone else do that....). Anywho....the kiddos acquired all manner of goodies.
After we get back, the sorting, trading and comparing begin. My kids are fine with most trades, because it is really all about picking their fave five for immediate shoveling. the rest is Great Pumpkin fodder. Each child does the same thing all throughout the Trick-or-treating world: they pile the candy up, sorting it by some sort of internationally-understood grading system. There is little room for disagreement in the system. I say that Halloween loot falls into 1 of 4 categories. See if you agree:
The "I Hate My Job and the People at Work" Mix
This is the mix you feel obligated to buy because you have some crappy-ass candy dish on your desk/at your station/in your cubicle and it's about time you filled the damn thing, because that annoying guy from payroll makes lame jokes about you "being too sweet to have candy nearby" or some shit. So you schlep down to some store looking for tampons in your sweats, and that lame bag of candy cast-offs is waiting for you. You figure, "what the hell. Now I can fill that dumb dish." Little do you know, you will throw most of it away in 2 years, after you pop a butterscotch disk into your mouth when your paycheck doesn't hit your direct deposit account on the right day and you have nothing for lunch. Within seconds, the butterscotch disk sticks to your teeth, because it is so old, the outer coating has turned gooey. Yep, we've all been there. So, in a fit of hungry rage, you throw the dish and the rest of it's contents into the recycle bin. You know it doesn't belong there, but you are SO ANGRY you are willing to eff up the entire recycling program in the building.
Then, there is the "I'm on a diet/budget/stupidity binge and I'm not totally committed to keeping my garage door egg-free tonight" mix
Now, don't get all pissy. I like me some Smarties now and then-the sugary goodness that dissolves in your mouth, the subtle froot-like flavors. All kinds of yum. But the rest? C'mon, now. this is desperation candy, dollar store candy, PMS-fueled misery candy. Halloween is NOT about being cheap, regardless of our economic times (I know that sounds tough, don't be so damned serious, okay?). I get it-times are tough. But we spend less on full-size bars than we used to on "fun-size" bars. And raisins? REALLY???? I'm not even going there.
The third category is my fave. It's called many things-jackpot, swag, super booty, the creme de la creme.
Amiright, or amiright? There's some full-size bars in there, some Reese's, some PB Mn'Ms, the good stuff. Princess is a fan of KitKats, Monkey Boy goes for Butterfingers and Baby Ruths. Sky King will sneak a Snickers or two when he thinks no one is looking. And Skittles. One of the few fruit-y type candies that pass muster. This is the Golden Ticket of loot sacks.
The 4th kind of Halloween fodder is the stuff that doesn't even earn a picture. you all SHOULD know how I feel about this. Temporary tattoos, popcorn balls, silly bandz or whatever the hell they are called, erasers and pencils, fruit, and the dreaded toothbrush. I don't need a toothbrush when I am looking for candy. That's like getting an urn of your grandmother's remains for a birthday gift. I get the point, Grandma was special, but where's my freakin' EZ Bake Oven??? I don't need a tooth decay lecture, I need some damn sugar, for crissake.
Well, I guess I have ranted long enough. And besides, the "Great Pumpkin" needs to go put on her stretchy pants.
Peace out, homies.
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