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The Fount Of Chocolate And Hope

November 1, 2011

As always we had less than ten trick or treaters. This keeps happening. We prepare with a huge bowl of colorful sugar as if the entire city were going to come, single file, to our doorstep. But we live in a neighborhood without a lot of kids and our driveway is incredibly long so unless we mark the path with roadflares and an attendent no one on the street is going to see that our porch light is on.

Which means we have leftover candy. A lot of it. Peanut butter pumpkin cups and fudge filled skulls and smarties and reese’s. And the best part is the candy doesn’t belong to anyone. Much as I want to I can’t steal my brother’s trick or treating candy. He worked hard for that stuff, traipsing up and down the street in an itchy costume in the dark for an hour after it stopped being fun.*

But the bowl. The bowl is just a beautiful communal fount of chocolate and hope. The unspoken rule is that we don’t divide it. You don’t get 20 pieces to hoard in your room. You take from the bowl as needed. Snipe a piece on the way out the door to go shopping. Snipe a piece on your return home. Snipe one after dinner. It’s the only way to be fair.

And the cat needs to get let out a lot.

Fount

I'd give it a halo, but I'm too lazy.

*There’s something awfully Machiavellian about Liam. He doesn’t break rules, nor does he cheat. He just finds a way to make the rules work towards his benefit. Candy on Halloween? He turns it into a business, figuring out exactly how to get the maximum load within the window of my mom’s patience. Then she drags him home and he hides it so that she can’t force him to parcel it out over a month.

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