Not here, anyway. Last night, I left my front light on and lit the beautiful jack-o-lantern (pictures later) and sat down to watch MythBusters with my family over Mummy Dogs. (Think Pigs in a Blanket done in strips with a little face poking out.) And then, there was a knock at the door!
Trick or Treaters! Two of them!
I opened the door.
"Trick or treat!"
"Um, sorry, we haven't got any candy. We've never gotten trick-or-treaters here before."
This is not a lie. This is the fourth Halloween and the first trick-or-treaters we've had.
"You ought to turn out the light, then."
"Right. I know that rule, but we've never had anyone knock on the door before. Be safe. Sorry."
Soccer Dad said that they were too old to be out, anyway. He hates teens trick-or-treating. I sheepishly admitted to going all the way through high school for it.
"If you are old enough to work, get a job and buy your own candy," he answers.
So now I will either have to (a) buy candy, or (b) keep the light off.
I think, judging by the derth of kids on our street, and the plethora of houses in the neighborhood 1/4 mile behind us, we'll just be the anti-Motel 6.