The streets were glowing with the light reflecting off of them as the rain drizzled down, threatening to end what had been deemed, in our house, the most exciting day of the year.
She told me it was more exciting than Christmas.
We’ll see when Christmas comes.
I was woken that morning at 5:30 am with squeals by a hyper 4-year-old who couldn’t believe it was Hallowe’en!
Could she wear her costume to school?
Could she have just one bite of candy?
When would it be time to trick-or-treat?
5:30 am is way too early to answer these questions.
She had come home from school busting with energy, running in circles, and refusing to eat dinner because she couldn’t sit still. There was too much to do, people to see, houses to get to, and a costume to put on.
Once we arrived in town and met our friends we let the wild animal loose. We watched her bounce from house to house, say please and thank you, squeal over the obscene amount of Elsa’s she saw, and cower before the houses with too many scary decorations.
She was done.
She wrapped her legs around her dad, put her head down, and exclaimed, “I’m done.”
But she made sure we knew she still wanted that candy apple that she saw at our friends house.
Then, the night was over.
But don’t think I didn’t reap the rewards.
There was a huge bag of candy that needed to be sorted and somebody had to
eat it do it.