Where’s my bowl of candy, kids?
Of course, I knew that when I left it on my porch on Halloween night, all of Reese’s peanut butter cups and Hershey’s kisses could disappear into a pillowcase. I walked down the block to a neighbor’s meeting in the backyard, leaving a note with my candy: “Help yourself, but leave some for others. “
When I got home an hour later, I was delighted to find the bowl half full. I felt ridiculously proud of the kids who stopped by and thoughtfully left a few for those who followed. (Even though I forgot to include the all-important word “Please” in my note.) I turned on a mystery TV show, deciding to leave the bowl and rate as is. Maxx barked at the front door a few times – as is his job – but I just reassured him that it was more of a trap, and everything was fine. When I opened the door at 9 p.m., no luck.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if an empty bowl stared at me from my porch chair. But no luck? punks! It was neither a precious object nor a sentimental value. But stay. Why not just grab the candy and run? This could be the trick. Teenagers, a couple of friends later said. You remember being a teenager, with those swirling hormones that made you do crazy things, try to impress that boy or girl, take silly risks – especially when you’re too greedy for Halloween sugar ? Stealing someone’s candy bowl, while downright reckless, is better than any seriously reckless act. Maybe it was a challenge or a rash last minute decision. I would never know.