"are you going to be here next year, lady?" (m)

Today is Halloween.  My husband lives for this day the way many kids live for Christmas.  My mother says it's the most animated he gets.  He takes the initiative to decorate outside and even went to iParty to "keep things fresh and current."  I couldn't tell the new inventory from the old, but he was quite pleased with himself when the decorating job was done. 

Just before the trick or treaters arrive, he has a moment of self-doubt and runs to the store to buy more candy.  I bought two of those 150-count bags of assorted candy at Costco earlier this week. I thought 300 pieces was plenty. You wouldn't believe what he comes back with--mini Almond Joys (what kids eat coconut?) and those Kraft caramels that you might put in a candy dish on a receptionist's desk in the 1970's.  My mother snorts: "nice choice."

We have too much candy, especially since he parses it out like the Yankee that he is (he gave the UNICEF collectors a quarter each......our neighbors were peeling $1 bills off rolls).

By 10 p.m., we had about 75 pieces of the Costco bag left, all the Almond Joys and two bags of that caramel crud.  I was dying for a Kit Kat and a Reese's peanut butter cup and maybe even some M&M peanuts.  Just as I'm mentally calculating the points if I were to consume all that, the doorbell rings.

I told my husband that I would get the door.

Standing there are two young boys, about 12 years old.  I look at them for a minute and ask if they noticed any other kids on the street.  "I think we're the last ones," they say.

"Okay, boys, here you go".  I gave them the rest of the candy.

Their jaws dropped.  "Are you going to be here next year, lady?"

"Yes, but you won't recognize me", I say.

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