The apartment we live in isn’t conducive to trick or treaters. It’s on the second floor, over a business so most kids wouldn’t think of going up there. I’ll also be putting out a dead goat to help ward off those who do. In any case, we won’t be handing out candy this year.
And that’s too bad because I’m a bit of a softie for Halloween. I like to see the kids dressed up, especially the real wee ones. It’s just, you know, cute.
What I don’t care for are the kids who come to your door and don’t say anything. No “trick or treat” and “thank you” – just a look of entitlement or maybe a grunt. Who’s raising these kids? If we’re going to go through this ritualistic legalised extortion, at least do your part. And for the teenagers who show up wearing pajamas? Fuck. Right. Off.
There I said it and I don’t regret it.