As I dust off my twenty year old Halloween candy basket and fill it with chocolate miniatures, I am envisioning greedy little faces at my door rather than tiny cherubs dressed as Snow White or a box of Crayons. Now before you judge me as the Wicked Witch of the West rather than precious Glinda, let me explain. I have lived on the same corner of the same street in a quiet suburban neighborhood for over 25 years. Each Halloween, I have dutifully handed out candy to neighborhood children in a neighborly way with a neighborly smile. And I have genuinely enjoyed seeing my children and their friends shouting, “Trick or Treat” as I swing open the door to their excited grins and giggles.
But in the last few years, I have seen a change in this routine. No longer am I greeted with smiling faces behind the clown paint or Justin Bieber hat. Now I see hoards of strangers, huddled in groups the size of a soccer team, pushing to my outstretched hand yelling, “How many can I take?”
Really?! Has “trick or treat” gone the way of giving a lady your seat on a bus or standing when your elder enters the room? Well, not at my house. I respond to “How many can I take?” with “How many what?” Or more often, “What do you say?”
To that, the Lady Gagas, Harry Potters and Jack Sparrows withdraw their bags, plastic pumpkins or (my least favorite) pillow cases a few inches and murmur a befuddled, “Trick or treat.”
In return they get a big witch smile and as many pieces as they want, especially if they throw in a “thank you” before they run next door.
Last year, two adorable elevenish boys dressed as Thing One and Thing Two, huddled in the bushes before they entered my neighbor’s yard and whispered, “Wow, she was harsh! ”
Mission accomplished. Until “Trick or Treat” is back, I’ve accepted I will never be a Glinda.
