Monday, November 05, 2007

Poo Or Treat?

I’m almost a week late on the topic of Halloween, but I really want to share my Halloween experience.

This year was my first Halloween in my new house and the first time I’ve ever given out candy. In previous years, I lived in apartments or houses that, for whatever reason, kids didn’t visit. Being in a neighborhood now with tons of kids around, I knew the crumb crushers (as my grandfather called them) would be banging down my door on Halloween. So I armed myself with three big bags of Milky Ways, Kit-Kats and Lifesaver Gummis.

I started out letting the trick-or-treaters ring my doorbell, but two things put a stop to that. The first was Ernie. He’s never been overly fond of children and it certainly didn’t help when they showed up on his doorstep in weird outfits and masks. Twice, I had to use my thigh to pin his snout against the door jam when he tried to stick his nose out the door to nibble on someone. Then there was the poop bag incident.

"Poop bag," you say? Let me explain. Being a considerate dog owner, I always take a grocery bag with me when I walk Ernie to pick up after him. Since there are no community garbage cans in our neighborhood, and since I myself don’t have an outdoor garbage can, I just toss the “poop bags” next to my front stoop until trash day. I had three days worth of poop bags on Halloween, waiting for the trash pickup the next morning. Now back to the night in question…

Around the fifth or sixth ring of the doorbell, I opened the door to two boys, the older about 8, the younger, maybe 5. As I opened the storm door and pulled the inside door most of the way shut behind me (which I had to do each time, or Ernie would have been feasting on a youngster), the two boys backed up to allow the storm door to open a bit wider. The younger boy forgot there were steps behind him and wound up tripping down them, falling into the poop bags, face first.

His Skittles and lollipops and Snickers went everywhere. Sure, the poop bags were tied shut, but his face was right there, resting on them. I stood on my stoop, completely frozen, mouth hanging open, as he lay there, motionless, among the poop bags. It seemed like an eternity before he showed any signs of life and before I could wake myself from shocked immobility. Finally, I dropped my bucket of candy and rushed to help him up, just as his father ran up the walkway to do the same.

"“Are you okay?" I asked as I helped him up. In a tiny, feeble voice, desperately trying to hold back tears, he said, "Yeah. “Well, you deserve extra candy for surviving that,” I said as a dropped a big handful of treats into his bag. The father helped the boy pick up the scattered candy and held his son’s hand as they walked to the next house.

From that point on, I sat on the front stoop to hand out my candy. All three bags were gone in under 40 minutes. Luckily, there was a lull when I only had two Milky Ways left, so I ducked inside and turned off my patio light to signal that I was out of the game, and enjoyed the last two treats.

Next year, I’ll have more candy, start on the stoop, and make sure there’s no poop in sight.

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