They may have looked like fairies, superheros and monsters, but
anyone who spent Halloween distributing fun-sized packets of fruity
and chocolatey candy to groups of rambunctious
“children” knows this is a far cry from the truth.
The pesky brats are nothing but terrorists, and not because of
their scary costumes.
Case in point: After suffering through a pack of hormone-raging
ninth-graders who offered their oversized pillowcases in lieu of a
greeting (not to mention their terribly unoriginal costumes: bum,
’70s girl, mask from “Scream”), I encounter two
cute little blonde 4-year-olds dressed as fairies. “Now this
is what trick-or-treating is about,” I think to myself as I
reach for the Starburst. No sooner than I drop a shiny yellow
packet in terrorist #1’s orange pumpkin does she snottily
demand: “Can I have two?” I look at the girl’s parents
hanging out on my sidewalk, hoping for some sort of chuckle and
apology and “One is enough;” or at the very least:
“Suzie, we’re supposed to say “˜please’ when we
want something.” Not a peep, I tell you.
As I recover from Suzie’s audacity to place a burst of fruity
chews in her little friends bucket, I hear another nasal whine:
“Can I have two, too?” I’ll show you two, too, you
nasty twerp! I’ll ram that tutu down your evil little throat! I
drop two Starbursts in the bucket ““ better to just get them
off my porch and out of sight ““ when I hear: “Um, I
asked for two.” Instead of backhanding her (child abuse is
very tempting sometimes), I say: “I gave you two,” and
slam the screen door, shaking my head at the knowledge that Suzie
and her sidekick will no doubt make a nice addition to a pack of
nasty scavenging teenagers one day.
This is nothing less than the degradation of society. Out of
about 50 kids I saw last Thursday, only two actually said thank
you.
I could be getting more crotchety with age, but there are a few
rules these trick-or-treaters need to live by:
Um, hello? How ’bout a greeting. The point of going to
other people’s houses for a pack of candy you could just as
easily buy at the store is for sociability. Get a clue.
If you are one of the following: a) over five feet tall; b) over
30 (yes, a 30-year-old man came to my door alone asking for
chocolate) ““ stay home!
You are not cute, and President Bush says half of American
adults are overweight, so you don’t need any more candy. Go to a
costume party with people your own age.
Wear a good costume, and keep it on! Your mom’s old
bell-bottoms are not creative, and there is no point in buying a
mask if you take it off because it’s too hot. Stick it out.
If these rules are followed, Halloween will be a lot more fun
for everyone. Until then, I vow to lock my doors, turn off my porch
light, and pass out prunes to any wretched child-beast that dares
to cross my doormat.