Step to the side you frosted Christmas cookies, Halloween has always been the mother of all sugar holidays.
What could be more delightfully nostalgic than answering the ringing doorbell and hearing the sweet little call of "Trick Or Treat"? I love to generously stuff these little children with fat and sugar! Halloween is never quite complete with out the stomach ache and diarrhea that comes from reaching near lethal levels of blood glucose. Are they sleeping at 3 in the morning or is it a coma induced by sudden and severe drops in insulin?
We all carry memories of Halloween past. I remember a time when one of our neighbors gave an ACTUAL candy bar! The majority of our pillow sacks bulged with gum, wax lips, pixy stixs, peppermint, maybe a tootsie pop and a few coins. We stayed out until 8 p.m. and wore costumes we made from old sheets (ghosts) and discarded clothes (hobos). It was fun to design your own concepts. Now we have Spirit Stores and you might be boycotted if you don't have the 'right' snacks. Snickers, Twix, Milky Way, M&M's... you get the picture. Don't even consider actually MAKING your own treats! Children are warned to not eat something that hasn't been mechanically packaged in the pristine state of New Jersey.
Now that my own child has out grown the annual neighborhood shake down, the opportunity to "Re-Gift" her massive haul of chocolate has also ended (she intends to stay in Junior size 3 and wouldn't eat this stuff if you paid her. I would compensate her for the heaping mounds of mounds, turn around and throw it back out the door ). So now I can either go out and actually purchase 4 or 5 bags of over priced sugar, or I can just keep the lights off and hide out in my bedroom with a Sookie Stackhouse book and my cats. This would be a first for me. I have often had a rather low opinion of people who shunned the cute little beggars at their doors. Now that I am living (if one can call it that) on unemployment, the prospect of spending $20 on candy is not just unappealing, it messes with my survival budget.
There's really only one answer to this budgeting dilemma: I will collect all of the Watch Tower literature that has appeared ever so frequently in my mailbox. Don a twin set and sensible shoes. Boil some mothballs and fan the scent into our courtyard. When the bell rings, I will open the door widely, hold up the magazine and say "Thank you so much for coming to the meeting". The pitt-er patter of pudgy little feet as they escape my walkway will echo in the night like rain. You got it, I'm a witch!