I carefully set out three pumpkins on the front porch, one of which is a toothless gourd Greg carved in honor of Baby C. I dump three bags of candy into a bowl and resolutely set it by the front door. Then I worry that the chiming doorbell might wake the napping baby, so I grab a book and a glass of apple cider and sit out on the porch, ready to oooh and ahhh over the little neighborhood goblins.
And I wait. And I wait. Then, crunching leaves--here comes somebody! Nope, just a dog walker.
Where the heck are the trick or treaters? When I was a kid, we trick or treated all the way home from school, and kept going well past nightfall. Today, though, my neighborhood is quiet.
I resist the urge to pass out candy to the commuters walking home from the metro. I eat a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. Then I read my book in the mellow afternoon, watching little bugs glint like dizzy dust motes in the last sun of the season. And I relax, for the first time in... a year?