I know, I didn't write at all last week. This is all the apology that
you're going to get.
Well, for lack of anything more interesting to write about, I looked down at
my desk and saw a wonderful little "fun" size Butterfinger bar, and it
occurred to me that the fates had chosen a topic. Yesterday, in Sunday School,
we were asked to introduce ourselves and state our preferred Halloween candy.
I pledged my support for the marvelous Sweetarts. Unfortunately, I didn't
actually get any this year.
The fault for this lies squarely with me. Not only did I not
this year, at all, but I didn't do much of anything Halloween-y. I did carve
pumpkins on Saturday (and I hope to have a picture up on the front page
shortly), but besides that, all I did was stock the Homestarmy fridge with Kit-Kats,
Butterfingers, and Crunch bars. This candy was not deposited in the bags of
any trick-or-treaters due to a horrible misunderstanding.
In summary, I did not buy Sweetarts and didn't give any candy at all to those
who bothered with a costume, therefore, the cosmos did not feel like I had
earned my treat.
On a more amusing (at least to me) note, one of my favorite Halloween candy memories always comes to mind when someone
mentions coleslaw (which, to my misfortune, no one has done recently). Every once in a while, my mom likes to experiment with her
meals. One year, back when I was still young enough to get away with
trick-or-treating, she made coleslaw shortly after Halloween. She admits that
this was one of her least (if not the least) successful experiments (she's
actually a very good cook -- please don't be offended if you're reading this,
Mom, I'm still going down to visit for Thanksgiving). My dad was (rightfully)
supportive and demanded that we children eat such a lovingly prepared meal.
My brother balked at this command and after much discussion, forfeited his
bag of Halloween candy. Later, of course, my mom secretly returned what he
hadn't already stolen himself. But he didn't have to eat the coleslaw.
I will also always remember waiting in line at the Hospital with a pillowcase
full of treats that we couldn't eat because they were doing free x-rays of
all the kids' candy. That had been a particularly fruitful night, and the
delay was nearly unbearable. Thankfully, no one had tried to sneak a
razorblade into my Sweetarts, as Guido was not yet then available.