Ho, ho, ho for some Halloween candy

On Halloween, I stopped at a store on my way home to buy some extra candy, anticipating that there’d be lots of trick-or-treaters out despite what would not be the best of outdoor conditions.

What I realized, though, was that Christmas apparently is happening again this year, judging from the overpowering presence of all the ho-ho-ho stuff that had snuffed out the likes of Halloween before I’d even heard my first “boo!”

And poor Thanksgiving — hardly any evidence of that anywhere in the aisles.

I bought what candy I thought I needed, but I admit I kept feeling pressured to buy more and more, starting in June, when back-to-school supplies went on the shelves.

I thought then, great Earth! It’s going to be Halloween before you know it. I better get the consumer spirit.

So I’ve been hoarding for Halloween, which is pretty typical. Have too much of something instead of not enough. Better to have leftovers, I always say. Just ask my refrigerator. Or Better Half.

The first time I ever made dinner for him, for example, he figured that out about me when I fixed us six baked potatoes. He wondered who else was coming to eat.

I just shrugged my shoulders and thought my portion-preparation approach quite normal.

Anyway, I spent Halloween at a trunk-or-treat at my church, normally an event held outdoors, but we moved it indoors given the stinky weather.

Better Half predicted we’d probably have a poor turnout. Who goes trick-or-treating when you need an umbrella as part of your costume, he reasoned.

Duhhh. All kids do.

We were pretty inundated, not that I wanted to rub anyone’s nose in a big bowl of candy corn or anything for personal satisfaction at being right.

I was too busy enjoying all the costumes, many of them especially clever, including the little girl dressed as a carrot and another gal who had made her own outfit. She was a walking box of macaroni and cheese.

And I couldn’t help remembering back when I was a trick-or-treater myself, making my way from house to house in the neighborhood.

Those were the days when people tried to guess who you were before you got any candy. And they usually did a pretty good job.

I remember homes where people actually looked at your eyes behind the mask and guessed, “Oh, you’re the little Hout girl.”

It was a great Halloween, and I had more than enough candy to make it through the evening.

There’s nothing scary about leftover chocolate.

They’re in season no matter what holiday it is or isn’t.

(Kiaski, a resident of Richmond, is a staff columnist and community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at jkiaski@heraldstaronline.com.)

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