Trick or Treat.

Halloween Weekend. Earl and I have been all jazzed up about this weekend, primarily because we live in a semi-suburban area now and we would actually get cute little trick or treaters begging for candy.

We were wrong.

We purchased 15 bags of candy at Wal*Mart (“Always White Trash, Always”) during a wine induced shopping spree a couple of weeks ago in anticipation of all the kids coming to the door. Helicopters were going to transport kids to the area from the surrounding housing developments. Candy deposit stations would be set up so that kids could empty their overstuffed bags of sweets and hit the road again for another load of diabetic goodness.

We were wrong.

Niagara Mohawk (power company) would be proud as we lit up the porch, the driveway, the garage, the local stadium and a string of illuminated pumpkins across the landscaping so that little masks would light up in glee over the festivity of it all.

We were wrong.

Not one flippin’ kid came to the door. Not one. Nada. Zilch. Zero. And now I have one disappointed ‘kid’ (read ‘Earl’) on my hands.

Guess what’s for supper tomorrow night! Anyone in the mood for a little Almond Joy?

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