By now, however, the fun has, unfortunately, worn off. I actually considered not buying any candy this year, and instead hiding out in the dark pretending not to be home, like the cranky old lady I've apparently become. But then I remembered my nice neighbors across the street and their perfectly sweet little girl LuLu, who would surely be coming to knock on my door. And I remembered the little girl in the tiara last year who made my night with her impossible cuteness. And I bought two bags of assorted candy anyway.
Last night at Target, I almost changed my mind about handing it out. I overheard two teenagers talking in the pain relievers aisle, and their exchange went something like this:
Boy: So, um, we should, like, hang out sometime.
Girl: Yeah, that'd be cool. OK.
Boy: All right. Yeah.
Girl: So, are you going trick-or-treating tomorrow?
I'm sorry; I'm all for the joy of youth and clinging tight to the benefits of childhood for as long as reasonably possible, but if you are old enough to nervously sort-of ask a girl on an almost, maybe-date, then you are, in fact, too old for trick-or-treating.
You know what another sign is that you're too old for trick-or-treating? The fact that you are already a licensed driver and are skipping between houses in a car instead of going it by foot.
After the third group of teenagers showed up wearing nothing that could, as far as I could tell, be in any way considered a costume, I decided to shut down for the night. I turned off my porch light and living room light and drew the curtains closed. Unfortunately, a rabbit or squirrel must have set off the motion light above my side door, and one more group decided that was an open invitation to ring that bell instead.
So now I am sitting in complete and total darkness, typing away by the light of nothing but my Dell flat-screen monitor.
I am nothing if not festive and clearly filled with holiday spirit.
At least no one showed up dressed as a clipboard-toting progressive activist. Because really, that might have been enough to put me off Halloween for good.
In all fairness, I should say that the tiny chicken and her bumblebee sister who showed up earlier in the night were almost adorable enough to make me forget the later hoodlums. Almost. I'm not quite that pure and unjaded, after all.
I really will make an excellent crotchedy old lady someday; don't you agree?