Hazardous Halloween candy

I’m glad Halloween is over for another year. Not because of the trick-or-treaters, I love the puzzled looks on the toddlers faces, the older ones’ expectant grins and the escorts who feign disinterest even as they take a treat.
I like passing out gifts to so many for so little. I enjoy watching that half-blind walk as they leave with their head bent to peer deep into their bag and see what we gave them. Sometimes I am rewarded with a pleased shout as a little one hold up his treat to show his mommy.
I even like the ones who are trying so hard to cover the entire neighborhood that they barely have time to say ‘thank you’ before they dash away.
My problem is my family:
They won’t believe that they have outgrown trick-or-treat. Every year it is the same discussion.
“Now this year, you really are too old to go.”
“But Moommm.”
“No, absolutely not. You’re too old.”
In our neighborhood it’s hard to quit. Halloween is a huge block party with candy, kids and cars lining the streets.
I really thought they were too old when I said, “anyone old enough to fill out a college application is too old to fill up a trick-or-treat sack.”
That year I thought I had found a happy compromise. I asked the high schoolers to hand out the treats while I took the younger ones begging and to a church activity. They rigged the phone so each “beggar’ heard a ghostly moan instructing them to take a piece of candy from the bucket. One son waited on the roof to drop a bucket on a rope while the other manned the phone
They were so intensely involved I breathed easy as we left to join the street party. I threaded my way between cars and children, cautioning my own to be careful.
I returned to the deserted streets and house. Although there was not message, I immediately knew where they were and fumed, “When are they ever going to grow-up?!”
I barely had my lecture outlined when the doorbell rang. A box and a white lab coated with four familiar feet stood there holding out a white plastic bucket with a lid.
“Evening Ma’am, we are the hazardous candy crew come to pick up all your leftover Halloween candy to keep you from getting sick. If you will carefully place your leftovers in this container, we will take care of it for you.”
“You didn’t!” I gasped.
“Yes, ma’am, we have been visiting the homes in this area. We would like to take care of your hazardous Halloween leftovers.”
I lifted the lid and looked in the container. They had
I blustered and faded out as they began doing some fast talking.
As the crowded streets emptied, they had dressed up and gone door to door with their unique trick-or-treat message. The pile of candy they dumped out reflected the many people who had exactly followed their instructions.
They spent the rest of the evening perfecting plans for “Next Year When I Am In College.”
The next year, when I called him at college, he didn’t mention his grand plans. I didn’t bother to remind him, either.


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