I grew up in the country. We didn’t have any neighbors very close by. As a result, we never had any kids come to our front door for Halloween. In fact when my sister and I wanted to go trick or treating when we were kids, our parents would have to load us into the car, and take us to the nearby neighborhood. Thankfully, it was mostly family, and family friends that lived in the neighborhood nearest to our house. Not only did it mean our candy was safe, it pretty much guaranteed a good candy haul each year.
Anyway, I never experienced what it was like to have kids coming to the door every 10 minutes on All Hallow’s Eve. When I moved, I thought things would be different. In fact, I was looking forward to handing out candy to all the little ghosts, goblins, and Hannah Montanas that arrived at my door with treat bags. That first year, I bought candy, and even hung some fake spider webs up.
But, it turns out that no one comes HERE for Halloween either. I live closer to town. I’m not out in the sticks any more. Still, every Halloween, I’m sitting home by my lonesome shoveling down handfuls of fun size Kit Kats (and don’t even get me started on this “Fun Size” bulls*it! That’s the topic for a different day.).
After that first year, though, I came to two realizations:
1. 1I like candy
2. 2I hate kids.
To be completely honest, things could not have worked out any better for me. Now, I go to CVS in October and cash in on all the sweet Halloween candy deals. I fill the pantry with tiny chocolate bars, and I don’t have to share it with anyone! All the sweet, chocolaty, teeth rotting goodness is for me!
Hey…Why do you think I call myself Judge Fudge?