Monday evening was a revelation for me.
I escorted my two youngest kids on their trick-or-treating adventures. Both were quite excited, with Duncan, the middle child, explaining his plan to get lots of candy this year.
We live on a street that is a large oval with one exit, which makes it a hotspot for trick-or-treating. Kids are dropped off at the entrance, make their way around, and meet up with their ride at the entrance when done. Our plan was to do the oval – our side of the street first, followed by the other side.
I grew up on this street, and it was a very solid plan. It’s one that has been used by multiple generations of trick-or-treaters, and has produced great yields in the candy department.
After finishing the one side of the street, my daughter Ivy looked at me and said, “I’m done, Dad.”
Duncan looked at me and said his legs were tired, so he was calling it a night.
“But what about the other side of the street? There’s lots of houses left to go to.”
“I’m good,” said Ivy. Duncan, in typical Duncan fashion, ignored the question and went inside.
Cameron, their older brother, went off with his friends to trick-or-treat. They also had a plan, complete with map, on which houses they were going to in order to produce a record-breaking candy haul.
I estimate the route planned would take 90 minutes to complete.
After 45 minutes, Cameron and his three friends came wandering back toward our house.
“Done already?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Cameron. “There’s like, no lights on past our street.”
After asking exactly where they went, it turns out they walked onto the next street, which is traditionally not busy on Halloween night, saw no lights on and came back.
“What about the subdivision across the street?” I asked.
By my estimation, a fairly new subdivision with houses that sold for over a half million dollars should result in above average candy and treats.
“We went there,” claimed Cameron.
They didn’t. Turns out he and his friends got tired and decided to come home.
It wasn’t even 7 p.m. yet, and all three of my kids were ready to pull the plug on Halloween.
Knowing I had no way of getting Duncan and Ivy out of the house again, I turned to Cameron and his friends and imparted some of the trick-or-treating wisdom I have gained over the years.
“We need to go to Prospect Street,” I said.
“Why?”
I explained that Prospect Street had really nice people who live on the street, however not a lot of kids go there for Halloween. These places, knowing they will only get 10 or 12 kids, will give out really good candy such as full-size chocolate bars or cans of pop – the good stuff kids are looking for.
“What are we waiting for?” chimed in one of Cameron’s friends. “Let’s go!”
So off we went. Sure enough, my intuition paid off and the three amigos got a great haul of candy in the six or seven houses they visited on that oft-forgotten street.
“How did you know about this?” they asked me.
Then I had my “old man” moment.
“Back in my day,” I started, “we stayed out for hours trick-or-treating. We would go all across town, as many houses as we could, to maximize our candy haul. Sometimes they were a bust and you got an apple or a bookmark, and other times you hit the jackpot and got the full-size chocolate bars or a small bottle of pop.”
There would be a trip to the house to drop off a pillow case full of candy, grab a new sack and head back for more.
“Sounds like a lot of work,” they told me. “How did you eat all that candy?”
“Well, you don’t get to look like this without a lot of work,” I quipped, patting my belly.
Kids just don’t get it these days. And you know what, maybe that’s a good thing.
All of my kids showed restraint on Monday night. They went trick-or-treating, got an ample amount of candy, and decided they had enough. I, on the other hand, always wanted more.
The moral of the story: quality over quantity, and memories last longer than candy.
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Mike Wilson is the editor of Midwestern Newspapers. He has a sweet tooth – anything with peanut butter is preferred – and he may or may not have collected a “tax” on his kids’ candy haul to feed his need for sugar. Comments and feedback are welcome at mwilson@midwesternnewspapers.com.
