I was totally ready this year. A whole month ago I wandered into Rite Aid to get my drug store fix, you know, stare at the lotions, ponder the need for more mascara, try to convince myself that I do indeed need some more shampoo when I came across the candy aisle. It was still hot out, fall hadn't entered anyone's radar and Halloween candy was already experiencing sale prices. I thought I'd grab a few bags of it and be fully prepared for perhaps ungrateful yet possibly excited children to ring my partially functioning door bell.
Two weeks after that, Mark bought me 3 mini pumpkins and when Halloween arrived I sat them outside my door in a very 'come hither' manner. I was announcing to the children in the building "Processed sugar available here!".
And yet here it is, 9:40pm and not one single knock. I'm surprised at how sad I am. And I can't even eat the candy myself because then I will never speak to me again. Though I won't deny that I tried only to be spoken to in an unkind manner by Mark who warned me of all the evil things that will happen to me if I dared keep all these snack-sized Snickers to myself.
Bah Humbug!
Oh wait...wrong holiday.
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