Our neighborhood was so fun for kids to trick or treat up and down our country streets.  Jerry and another dad in the neighborhood shepherded a flock of kids from house to house.  It was challenging feat.  Houses were spread far apart, with little street lighting with lots of hills to negotiate.  It is still that way today.

After that flock of kids grew up, the ghosts and goblins dropped off to, oh, zero.  It was rather sad for us.  But we adjusted in about a half hour, curling up to watch tv or read.  And we were smart about it. No porch lights.  Hardly any interior lights from inside. It worked and we went to "Truck or Treat" parties instead.  

One year, the party was on a night other than Halloween and we stayed home, usual strategies in place. Suddenly the doorbell rang.  Jerry asked, "Do we have treats?"  "NO, we don't have treats.  We quit buying treats for ZERO kids years ago. I would not answer the door."

Doorbell rings again, two times.  Jerry answered the door. "TRICK OR TREAT!"

"Excuse me," Jerry said as he walked back to me on the couch.  "Where are the treats?"  "We have no treats." He scanned the room and grabbed 3 bananas, ran to the door, depositing the bananas into three bags.

"What!!!"  I heard a boy's disparaging voice. "We have these for lunch every day!"  They left. I was sure egging was in our future. 

Jerry looked wild-eyed. "Those were the neighbors' grandkids!"  Off he ran to the pantry and dragged out 3 fiber-laden bars. "I don't think fiber is such a great idea, Jerry."  But he ran up to the neighbors and gave each of the boys one.

"I KNEW they had candy!" the oldest snarled.  Candy with  a punch.