It’s the same story every year.
I bought Halloween candy too early. Again.
One year, I held off so long, I forgot. The first masked children rang the doorbell, waiting with their bags open, their peeking eyes in anticipatory glee.
I hid in my bedroom, ashamed, until they left. I did this all night.
The following year, I sent my husband out to buy candy on the eve of Halloween. He returned with an obscene amount of full-sized candy bars. “All they had left,” he told me.
An expensive mistake.
Since then, I buy it myself, from Costco, in advance. I suffer the same torture every year.
I sit with the bag, day after day, while I try to work at home. They taunt me – those mini-chocolate hellions: We know you want us…..We can feel it. We see how you look at us when you pass. Come on…just a taste. You know how we make you happy….
Ah! I ask my kids to hide the bag as I remind them of the dangers of drugs; implore them to avoid menacing peers who will coax them to try it…Stay strong! I tell them.
While they’re at school, I search the house for the loot. Where the hell did they put it? I am thinking of all different ways to punish them, as I search through their closets, the basement, kitchen cabinets.
I amass 6 bags of old clothes, unused kitchen items, boots, and toys, and put them aside for the poor.
My house has never been cleaner. Where is that candy?
I find it in the basement toy chest, under a 1200-piece Lego box.
Should have done a better job. Only took me three hours to find it.
Last year it took me three and a half.
On Halloween, I pour the candy into our special orange bowl. (I used to have a nice basket, but it was stolen – don’t ask)
My husband looks at it. “Where’s the rest?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He peeks into the bowl again. “I thought we bought the 250-pc bag. There isn’t even half of that here.”
I shrug, and walk away. He follows me, not to be deterred.
“Where is the candy?”
I sigh, in defeat.
“Give me a hug, and I’ll show you.”
He can’t. His arms don’t reach around me anymore.
“I see.” He says. “I’ll have a chat with the boys. We’ll work on their creative hiding skills.”
Yeah, good luck with that.