On the one hand, haunted house operators seem genuinely sorry when a child starts crying mid-tour. On the other hand - isn't that the point? Seems haunted houses want to have their candy corn and eat it too. Haunted houses should employ at least one continuously crying child. There's no better advertisement. Nothing says scary to a kid than seeing one of their own reduced to tears.
Such was the case Friday night upon awaiting our turn to take the Night Watchman Tour at Falmouth's Museums on the Green. The four kids in our party were engaged in age appropriate noisemaking and merriment until the bawling child exited the building. After that a silence fell over the crowd. The kind of group hush usually only seen in summer when some poor kid's ice cream topples from its cone.
In other Halloween notes Gene blew the top off my cover by suggested to C that he guard his candy against pilfering by his parents. How could he bring this up? Until that moment the idea had never occurred to C and any discrepancies in the amount of his candy count would have been chalked up to younger siblings. Now the shadow of suspicion has been cast over me. Even Ken was about to help himself the other night and he's got willpower of steel.
Yes Virginia, parents eat their kid's Halloween candy. And we're not after your candy seconds either. No Wonka's Laffy Taffy. No Twizzlers, even in rainbow colors. Maybe Sweet Tarts. Definitely none of that crap that we gave out. We want the good stuff. Kit Kats, Twix, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Especially Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
Parents indulge until their kids are able to accurately count, sort, and bar graph (practical math!) the loot. In other words, until the kids get old enough to notice. Then we start bargaining, begging, and bawling.
song: Don't Be Afraid of the Dark • artist: Robert Cray Band