Fred and I spent the weekend in Orange County. Much of the trip was spent walking down memory lane with a tour of downtown Fullerton and a visit to my high school. We rushed back on Monday to be home in time for the trick-or-treaters. They don't do it in France and I thought it would be fun for Fred. Plus, it had been years since I had handed out candy (yes, there were those occasional times in my van, but the kids weren't in costume so it just wasn't the same).
I forgot how stressful Halloween can be. As the trick-or-treating hour approached, I started feeling self-conscious about my candy selection. I don't know what came over me; it wasn't as if I were handing out Abba Zabbas. I had purchased bags of jumbo Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Kit Kats, and Tootsie Roll "Midgees" (yes, Paula, I was delightfully shocked by the name). Kit Kats were a solid choice, but there ended up being only a dozen or so in the bag. I thought I had done well with the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups too, but as I gobbled them up, I realized that perfect mix of salt and chocolate could only really be appreciated by a PMSing adult.
As the parade of princesses and vampires jammed their greedy little hands into our candy bowl, I noticed we were getting dangerously low on treats. I thought about offering tricks, but Fred stopped me. Instead, he ran down to Safeway and grabbed 6 more bags. The problem is that Safeway had run out of Halloween candy too. They were only stocking Christmas varieties. Now, not only was our candy Christmas-themed (they were wrapped in red and green foils decorated with snowflakes), the pieces were miniscule -- little Miniature Reese's Cups and itty bitty Milky Way Caramels.
The night was finally winding up. We still had some candy left and no parents had accused us of trying to poison their kids. I sat there riding my sugar high, satisfied with the night's events. Just then, the bell rang. I opened it to a group of high school teenagers. They were all very cute and polite except for one girl who looked to be about 15. She peered into the bowl, looked up in disgust and said "Uh, like isn't that Christmas candy?" I explained that we had run out and that was all that was available at Safeway. I told her that it tasted the same and probably was much fresher. She said "Really?" in a bitchy tone with an Alicia Silverstone Clueless expression. I told her that she could give back the candy if she didn't want it, plus it would probably ruin her braces (which is much nicer than what I was thinking -- let's just put it this way, I should have put a free gym pass in her pillowcase instead of a Milky Way). I'm sure our house will be toilet-papered tomorrow, but it was well worth it. She was a real brat. I have to admit that I was a little ashamed (especially after Fred reminded me that she was just a kid). I felt so immature. I thought I had made so much progress over the past several years. I guess 48 hours in Fullerton Toker Town can really bring you back to your roots.