Yup, Yup, Yup, Nope, Yup, I think that house is empty,
Yup, Absolutely Not, Yup, I think a murderer lives there, Yup, Yup.
I mentally noted each house as I zipped passed them on my
small purple Schwinn with the pedal breaks. I was canvasing my route. I’d lived in this neighborhood since I was 4
and I knew exactly which houses to hit when the big day approached.
I thought of what I was going to wear. Mom, who wasn’t the least bit crafty, wasn’t
going to make anything. She was also
thrifty, raising 4 kids on one income, so she certainly wasn’t going to buy me
anything new either. I thought about what my friends wore last year and I
wondered if I could borrow something. I
couldn’t bear another year of being the non-politically correct hobo.
This was Halloween. You go big or you go home.
When Halloween arrived, I had my route mapped out. This was before city government’s stepped in and
forced Trick or Treat rules and timetables on us. You got home from school, you changed into
your costume and you were out the door before 4. My brothers and I were old enough to hit the
immediate streets without parental guidance. We made our first rounds, then
returned at dusk to empty and assess our earnings.
Someone new moved into the corner house on Sequoia Drive. A dentist.
Toothbrushes? No thanks. Next
year that house will be skipped.
As the sun set, we struck off, usually with Dad, to the
next neighborhood over. These were the
bigger, nicer houses equaling bigger, nicer candy. Mini Snickers and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups were
passed out instead of lame candy like Smarties, or those weird orange and black
wrapped taffy’s.
And then there was the big brown house. The one with the pool and waterslide in the
back. The one that passed out the ultimate Halloween Candy prize. You got to that house early, before they ran
out. Every kid went there because every
kid new they passed out King Sized Hershey Bars.
King Sized!! No one
else passed out full sized anything let alone King-Sized.
Hershey bars weren’t even my favorite but the novelty of a full sized
candy bar was too exciting to pass up.
Once we hit that house any other candy earned was just
bonus. When we candy procurement ended,
we headed home to count, tally and trade our wears. 3 Tootie Pops for a Milky Way. “Here Mom, you can have all my Smarties.” Mom then put all our candy up high, rationing
it so we didn’t instantly develop diabetes. I did notice that my stash got
smaller disproportionate to my rations. I’m sure Mom took more than the
Smarties I so generously offered.
Now I’m an adult and I’m walking my child around with
candy. Soon he’ll be at the age where he
can remember the best houses to hit up. I’m
sure instead of hating on Smarties, Max will be disappointed by the house
passing out vegan, gluten-free, Paleo treats from Whole Foods. He’ll be polite and
say thank you since no one has to participate in the Trick or Treating. But when he skips the house the following year, I won’t blame
him.
1 comment:
Ha! I totally remember going out right after school, coming back home for dinner and going out to both sets of grandparents neighborhoods later on. Where we live now the kids only have a two hour window for trick or treating.
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