Trick-or-Treat

Well, we made it through our first Halloween in an actual neighborhood, with actual trick-or-treaters.  It brought back wonderful memories from so many Halloweens before.  The excitement of going door-to-door asking for candy in a costume you'd thoroughly thought through (only after asking everyone at school "what are you going to be?", just to make sure you were the only Strawberry Shortcake in the mix that year), braving the cold air and that "spooky house" (you know the one- fog machines, music, a not-so-lifeless scarecrow seated  on the porch swing, graveyard scene up the driveway), and competing for Most Candy Award... it probably goes down as the most excitement a kid will have all year (well, next to birthday and Santa Claus, but we'll get to those on another post).

The night started around 6:00 when we got our first doorbell ring.  And then it rang again. And again.  When I got to the door seconds later, I'm greeted by the cutest little bumble bee (couldn't have been older than 3 or 4.. bumble bees don't get too big you know) and her mommy laughing "You only have to ring it once, honey".   The bumble bee, rather than sting me, sweetly asks "Twee or twee?"  Night made. Already.  Holy cuteness in a costume.  As the celebration went on, we were greeted by all sorts of people- mad scientists, cowboys, rangers, ninjas, Georgia football players and cheerleaders (and yes, I gave them candy, too), and any kind of animal you'd find at the Atlanta Zoo.  These kids, even the big ones, were dressed for the occasion.

And the things they say.  Maybe cuter than the outfits.  Aside from several kids fumbling through projecting "trick-or-treat", we also had Polite Child.  Luckily, we had a lot of them.  One princess got her candy and then explained "My poor sister is at home sick, might I grab another?".  A swamp-thing said to me, "Thank you very much, please enjoy your evening."  (*side note- probably the nicest swamp-thing I've ever come in contact with, they are usually such boogers).  We also had Informative Child.  You've met him. Oldest one in the group (most likely right in front of the pack, shoving his bag through the door before you can really open it) telling you what everyone is dressed up as (I'm a baseball player, he's a frog, he's Spiderman),   and then telling you what everyone was dressed up as last year (I was a frog last year, now he's a frog this year because last year he was Batman, and he's Spiderman, but I'm not Spiderman because I've already been that).  By the time you think you know it all, Informative Child then gives a run down on the candy he's gotten, and which house is giving out what.  And now, you're informed.   

No matter the child, Cute, Polite, or Informative, they all had excitement in common.  And the kids weren't the only ones.  I must admit, I wasn't sure how into this whole pumpkin-frolic-candy thing the hubs would be.  I pictured it as me answering the door each time,  and hubs watching TV, uninterested for the most part.  Wrong.  Big time.  At first, he was following me to the door, at a safe distance behind of course, just to check out the situation.  Soon after, he's pacing from end to end of the house, peeking out all windows, and alerting me when someone new was coming.  By doorbell ring #12, hubs is suggesting a full on front yard tailgate to see the events unfold (really, it came short of me wrangling him back inside to keep from running with the kids in the street). To say he, too, was excited might be stopping short of the whole story. At the end of the night, his exact words were "Oh, we'll do something big next year.  We'll go all out." 

I guess we're going to be "spooky house".