There must be a light under the bushel!

A kid's halloween horror

We had a trick-or-treater last year. One.

We live in a fairly new neighborhood on the outskirts of Houston, the country-Houston, if you will. So, wanting to make a good impression, we stocked up all kinds of good candy for the neighborhood kids. We were going to be the coolest house with the best candy, none of those bags that come 1000 pieces for a buck for us. No way. Our candy was the stuff parents use as the poison tasters.

Well, the time goes by, yet we get no kids. Finally, the doorbell rings. This kid's got it made. After all, what are we going to do with all that candy (other than watch Dad eat it by the fistful)?

The kid solemnly announces, "trick or treat." His mother (or the Satanic version of her) is standing behind him beaming proudly.

We get ready to make his bag heavy and his eyes light up.

His mom has other plans for the night. "Oh no, we don't allow [little Johnny] to eat candy. He's just out to show off his costume and have some fun."

What?! What about all the loot he's supposed to get? What about spreading all the treasures on the living room floor and then going back to the best houses to get more goodies?

No, she thought it would be fun to take Johnny to all these houses where people wanted to give him candy for free, and then sike, none for him. What fun is that? Mean and crazy mother. Poor kid.