When I was two years old, I was a pumpkin for Halloween. When I was 16 I was “The Morning After”. Obviously a lot happened in the 14 years in between.
I remember going out with pillowcases to get candy. We’d hit up a friend’s neighborhood, where the houses were far apart and set off the road. The streets were narrow and windy with no lights and we were almost always the only ones out. The advantage was that when darkness fell and all the little kids were home, people would give us the remainder of their bowl of candy. “Here, take it all, we won’t get any more kids tonight” was something we heard often. The end result was that we made maximum profit with very little work.
One of her neighbors was our math teacher. He had left halfway through the year to go back to working on Wall St because his teacher’s salary wasn’t cutting it in Westchester. When we got to his house, he gave us handmade chocolate pops. Normally we wouldn’t eat candy that wasn’t packaged impeccably in steel and plexiglass (cyanide and razor blades and all) but we figured he was safe, even if he did have hair on his nose.
Tonight was the first time The Monkey went trick-or-treating. We only did a block and a half or so, and most of his treats will be eaten by Daddy and myself, but he had fun. Everyone loved his costume, and part way through he was actually reaching towards houses and smiling. We all had fun. It was a nice way to end an otherwise not-so-great day. Now for pictures:
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