Confessions of a Crappy Candy Giver

Now that I'm an adult(well, that's what the ID says, but the jury is still out with a decision), the meaning of Halloween has drastically changed. While I once would don a suit and run around all my neighbor's homes for a piece of 'fun size' candy, now I find myself in the position of handing candy out.

Perhaps it's born out of resentment of only filling up 1 McDonald's "Happy Meal" Halloween Bucket(how many of you remember this?) a year while the rest of my classmates would bring in pillowcases of the chocolate confections, or maybe because my parents decided that, upon turning 12, I had grown out of Halloween...I don't know. But, I've become very protective of my candy and I only give out the "crummy" kind.

Now, I'm not cheap when it comes to this holiday because I know that, if I have any left overs, I'd want to eat good candy and not some dinky lollipop. I buy "Almond Joy", "Three Musketeers" and "Kit-Kat". I pour them in a bowl. I tell myself that I'm going to be a good hostess and equally distribute the candy.

Ha.

What always invariably happens is that I give out what I like least first. If I purchased "Snickers" or "Babe Ruth", those would be the first to go. I don't care if you have peanut allergies - Thou shall not touch my precious Almond Joy! I'll give them a handful of these, especially if I know that I'm going to have very few patrons that night. Then, the second line comes...my "not so favorites, but they're still Ok". I'll hand these out in quantities of two to three. I tell myself that I'm helping the parents out. After all, they're small children and who wants a hyper sugar-fed child running around at 11pm?

...But then, if I run through those...desperation strikes. I look at my favorites. I get queasy. And it feels like I'm comitting an act of treason by handing them out. Those insipid cutiepies in their costumes come and I hand them, one, only one, of my preciouses. I sniff and sob after they leave, marking the departure of another of my most favorite treats. When the bucket reaches to 5 of my sinful snacks, I happily shut off the light and proceed to tear into my candy. I deserve something for my sacrifice.

Yes, I know I'm going to have to explain this one before I enter the "pearly gates". I've already accepted this. I'm going to pull the "But I'm generous to everyone on other holidays" pout-route.

I doubt if St. Peter has heard that one before.