The H Doesn't Stand For Healthy
In keeping with their plan to make my life go by at an ever increasing pace, my children are already talking about Halloween. Discussions about who is going to wear what costume, and what candy we should hand out, and how much candy they can keep have been rampant; and they take great pains to remind me of candy's importance to the holiday, probably because of the trauma I inflicted upon them about 10 Halloweens ago.
You see, that was the year I decided that home-baked whole-grain carrot muffins (in attractive Halloween-themed muffin papers) would be an excellent, homey addition to our nocturnal visitors' treat bags. So I baked ninety of them. Yup - ninety - I had the zeal of a crusader back then, bringing healthy holiday treats to the masses.
Now Larry, as you all probably know by now, is a wise man who knows better than to argue with his wife when she is on a mission. So when he spotted the bowl of attractively displayed muffins by the front door, he didn't say anything; but he headed out to the neighborhood grocery store. Returning with several bags of candy which he placed next to our healthy Halloween treats, he assured me, "These are just in case you, um, run out of muffins."
He had a good time that night, I remember. Every time kids came to our door and plunged their greedy little hands into those candy bags, he'd ask, "But don't you want a muffin?" They'd pause, startled, glance at the muffins, and decline. Many of them rolled their eyes. A few laughed derisively.
So, I get it now, all right? Nothing healthy. Heck, Halloween night, I don't even bother making dinner. Who would I be kidding? We eat candy all day, actually; like good athletes, we train for the big event.
Oh, and speaking of Halloween trauma - whoever at Michael's decided it was a great idea to put talking statues of a headless bride (what's up with that, anyway?) and a vampire near the front entrance to scare the bejebus out of my Susie? Thanks a whole lot! I don't know who you think your customer base is; but common sense might tell you that the people buying all those Foamies and sidewalk chalk and craft sticks just might be moms with young children - you know, young, as in unable to tell whether that scary thing at the entrance is real or not. Young, as in capable of screaming in terror the entire time their mother keeps them in the store. Young, as in innocent enough to be scarred for life by your stupid Halloween display that you think is a laugh riot.
Just needed to get that off my chest...