A few weeks ago at bedtime, Elijah said, “Dad. I heard there are some parents who take their kids’ Halloween candy after they fall asleep. Did you ever do that?”
“Every single Halloween, son. Sweet dreams.”
If there was ever a sweet spot for Halloween Eli and Luca are smack dab in the middle of it. They were so amped, Luca actually X-ed out days on his calendar leading up to it like a 1950’s cliché.
They were both very concerned about acquiring as much candy as humanly possible. They peppered me with questions about how many hours they’d be allowed to trick or treat, how many houses they could hit in that time, and the tonnage of sugar that equaled.
Their costumes themselves were beside the point. They were merely delivery mechanisms for candy. Eli went as Star Lord from the movie “Guardians of the Galaxy” and Luca went as a cartoon character so obscure I can’t honestly begin to describe it to you. Look at the photo. Is he a bat? An alien? A super hero? No mater. Put the candy here, please.
The day of was, like all recent Halloweens, awful. Rain poured all day as a constant reminder of my Dad’s death two years ago. But, like all recent Halloweens, my Dad used his heavenly super powers to stop the rain at 4:01pm on the dot. I’ve got to get to church one of these days and use one of their heaven walkie talkies to thank him.
After setting out our bowl with the impotent sign reading “Please take one piece only,” the boys literally ran down the street in search of sugar. Diana and I lost track of them almost immediately. We assured ourselves we’d catch up eventually and walked to the house that gives out whisky every year.
When we found the boys, Luca’s candy sack was already too much for him to carry. The magical house that gives out full sized Snickers had tipped the scales and he was dragging the bag like this year’s most famous meme/Halloween costume, “Pizza Rat.” Look it up. It’s worth it.
We suggested going over to our friend Kitty’s place for pizza, but Eli ran away, screaming. Luca sat at Kitty’s for five glorious pizza eating minutes until he begged me to take him for one more candy run. Just for old time’s sake. “I can stop any time I want. I just want one more piece. You know. Just one more piece. It’s not for me. It’s for my friend. I don’t even like candy…”
Diana and I decided that we would simply let them eat as much candy as they wanted. Maybe they’d get sick out of it. Isn’t that the way you get someone off heroin? Let them have as much as they want and they’ll decide on their own to quit?
The next morning, Diana discovered her computer screen was covered in Nerds candy. Eli was hanging from the ceiling and asked if I’d go to the store and buy him some candy.
Luca simply sat at his desk all day, drawing pictures and slowly, methodically shoving candy into his face. He seemed to do it with little or no joy. His eyes had taken a vacancy I found disturbing.
Finally, I snatched the bowl from him and said, “ENOUGH!” Luca clawed at me as I put the bowl on top of the fridge. He then spent the next few hours asking me to check if it was still up there.
Eli then complained of a stomachache, which he blamed on the salad we served for dinner.