Ever since the calendar hit October, my neighborhood has been primping itself for Halloween. The porches and lawns in front of the minimally-spaced two-family homes have spurted pumpkins, skeletons, gravestones, and other props with which to scare the children and glorify the occult. One house down the street wins the prize for its porch display that features an assembly of a dozen stuffed human figures, all dressed in sweatshirts, jeans, and werewolf masks, a sinister sight which is arguably more jarring at noon than at midnight.
So for the first time in many years, I am living in a neighborhood where I can actually expect Trick or Treaters to come begging at my door, forcing me to make a trip to CVS in order to purchase Halloween candy. It’s the first time I’ve ever bought a bag of candy with the intent of distributing it, and it took me about 20 minutes of acute deliberation to make my selection.
Firstly, the CVS appeared to be running out of candy. There were no Snickers, Milky Way, Butterfinger, Baby Ruth, 3 Musketeers, Twix, Mounds, or Almond Joy. There were Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, but they were bagged with Reese’s Pieces and (ugh) Reese’s Sticks. In fact, the trend in the candy aisle was to bundle the most awesome candy with lesser but similarly-constructed confectionary and sell it for $10/bag. So if I wanted to buy Peanut M&Ms, it came along with plain M&Ms and the despised mini M&Ms.
I eyed the remaining candy with a nutritive perspective. Why can’t they have tiny boxes of trail mix? I wondered as I wrinkled my nose over the Whopper/Milk Dud combo pack. It’s not that I care if I contribute to childhood obesity, because it’s practically a nonexistent condition in the Boston metro area anyway. In fact, I worry that local children don’t get enough sugar in their diets. Last week I heard a toddler on the subway throwing a tantrum for yogurt. Disturbing! No, I’m worried about my own slowing metabolism, because what adult can resist the temptation to snag a few (or more) of the individually-wrapped goodies during the lull between doorbell rings?
So if I can’t have something healthy, then I’ll get something that won’t tempt me too much. Out: M&Ms, Kit Kats, Hersheys. Acceptable: Gummy things, lollipops, and anything that is 100% sugar without any redeeming chocolate or nougat. After combing the candy aisle several times, I finally settled on an Air Head/lollipop/Menthos combo bag. As I walked home in the chilly nighttime wind, I ripped open one of the mini-Menthos rolls and promptly chewed the 6 candies, one at a time. I then tried out a mini-Airhead, which is like chemical-tasting taffy, and found myself intoxicated with a pure jolt of candy. I power-walked past the Werewolf house, effusing sugar happiness and chortling with Halloween spirit.
