A HOLLOW HALLOWEEN

There are two holidays I can’t deal with. One is the Fourth of July late at night and the other is Halloween. It seems this particular Halloween past was the most busy we have been. The kids were coming often and in large numbers all at once.

The football Giant fans sent all their kids out while I was watching the NY Jets lose, and Giants don’t play until Monday night! Constantly I jumped up from my chair as the little brats knocked on my door, and of course when you see them, all dressed up in their cute little costumes, you can’t help but fall in love with them all, but you equally hate their parents for bringing them around when it’s 3rd and 5 and the game is in the balance.

A disputed call is made, a request to review the play is made, and I await the decision when… Knock, knock, knock.

I reluctantly go to the door, and there stands about 3” tall a little monster.

“Trick or treat, smell my feet!”

The little monster is with his fellow monsters and they all have their bags opened for me to put in the candy.

Reaching into my supply of peanut butter Reese’s, the monster takes one look and says: “Hey, I don’t like those!”

My mind says: “Well you little bastard, why don’t you phone ahead so I can accommodate you!”

TLW (The Little Woman) yells out, “Give him some M&M’s, and I heard what you just thought!

I’ll give him something.

I dump a packet of M&M’s into his sack and he checks to make sure he approves.

Then there are the older kids. You know they are older because of two things. One, they don’t wear costumes, and B. they park their cars in your driveway.

When I was growing up in Brooklyn, we got together and didn’t ask for treats, we just offered tricks, usually ringing all the doorbells in the apartment house and then run like hell! Another bit of amusement was to travel to another neighborhood, and throw socks filled with flour or chalk. We chose unsuspecting kids, and when his guard was down, we let him have it.

Costumes were the homemade kind, old clothing your father didn’t wear anymore but was saving for a second coming, and burnt cork, that marked our faces like we were bums. If we did knock on a door, it was someone we knew, and they always rewarded us with… fruit.

So, last Halloween past, as the horde of kids came wave after wave, but my chocolate stash was being depleted, I had to act quick!

“Toots! We’re running out of candy!”

TLW: “No we’re not, I have more!”

I search and find more Reese’s peanut butter, and I hate peanut butter. My new crusade was: ‘Save the chocolate!’ Let the little brats have the peanut butter, I’m running this chocolate into my studio while there is still some left.