Rites of passage are usually present-laden, festive affairs. But this year, as Halloween reared its head, I abandoned my orange, pumpkin-shaped candy…

Rites of passage are usually present-laden, festive affairs. But this year, as Halloween reared its head, I abandoned my orange, pumpkin-shaped candy bucket with reluctance. As I transition into adulthood, I can’t help but regret the candy I’m missing. No longer will miniature Butterfingers reside in my underwear drawer until mid-January. Alas, “Fun Sized” Snickers have no place in my life now. As I stow my inflatable sumo wrestler costume in my attic, it saps my strength not to shed a tear, in memoriam. And yet – there is a silver lining. For the week before Halloween, I perfected the front porch, positioning mock-corpses just so, dribbling fake blood in only the most fear-inducing patterns. As I have been forced to abandon the pursuit of sweets, I’m now fully devoted to scaring the pants off of the lucky little kids who still get to trick-or-treat. I didn’t get sugary bounty, as in years past. But I had fun, and plus, we had leftover candy for me to hoard. – Will

 back to the Blog

Comments are closed.