Like taking candy from a baby

All Hallows Eve is now upon us, and as my day has been filled with 80's prom queens and colorfully caked makeup walking by, I contemplate the years past. I've been especially reminiscent since my busy schedule has prevented me from participating, even slightly, in any Halloween festivities.

The earliest documentation of my Halloween participation was of me at the Millo's home, dressed similar to my nature, like a little devil. I looked grumpy, most likely from being paraded house to house throughout the valley by my parents. Little did I know that candy was soon to come, I'm sure my entire perception of Halloween changed after that.



From ages 5 to around 10 I took full advantage of my cuteness factor, well . . . more like my parents did. I became the black cat or witch of the neighborhood once every year - and subsequently cleaned out two neighborhoods of their candy supplies. My parents, I suspect, had a strategy. My Mother tailor-made costumes that were always extremely fluffy or rotund in some way. My Father made sure to wait until after at least 8 to take me trick-or-treating. Most parents would think, "why let my child stay out so late". My Father is a smart man (and loves candy too much). By the time we got to our neighbor's homes there had been a substantial pause in the flow of trick-or-treaters, and they thus assumed that there were none left but me. So I basically got not just one treat but all remaining candy they had. And if I happened upon a household that had a depleted candy supply, the Mother of the household would always rush into the recesses of her kitchen and bring out her off-diet season candy bars. And if it was the Dad caught off guard, he would come back with all sorts of goodies. I even remember a few years where my Dad and I would stop back off at home to enter my candy pot and my backup pillowcase full of candy! Haha, that's almost shameful. I love my parents. :)

In the sixth grade I vividly remember my clown costume and it's horrible effects. But I'll save that one for another time.

Lastly, I recall Nick Callisto and Halloween at 13. Nick Callisto was the class clown in grade school, had an amazingly strong arm in jr. high, and was always rightly tanned and slightly stoned in high school. I happened across him at the Farmer's Market where I learned that, now in his twenties, he plans to move to Oregon to live a completely organic life. In 1998 I was on my way home from trick-or-treating with my friend Valerie as Nick came up to me, remarked on my costume, and snatched my pillowcase full of candy away from me. Little did he know the ferocity that lays beneath this calm brooklet. Before his arm could fully retract with my pillowcase I had snatched it back with the reflexes of a cat! Hah! Oh, but I did not stop there, no. In the heat of the moment my quickness to protect what was mine was as fast as my instinct to serve justice to the wicked. I took a firm grip on the pillowcase and proceeded to whop him on his shoulder and head. I only got in two blows before he started to shriek that he was only kidding and that he was sorry for trying to steal my candy from me. Hah! Definitely not like stealing candy from a baby sucker! I'm proud to say that as of that point in my life that was the last of my physical fights. The first I won through cunning, and the last through my quick physical reflexes! Victory is mine!

Thus is my Halloween history. I look forward to many more, hopefully with the opportunity to actually enjoy them and also, in the very far future, for the opportunity to exploit my own children's cuteness factor for the sake of my two year candy storage.