My feelings about Halloween are known. Regardless of how I feel about the holiday, I am all about surprises (the good kind) and sweet treats. (Yes, I inherited both my Father’s sweet tooth and his love of candy corn.) Imagine my delight–and surprise–yesterday morning when [S] and I spied a large Halloween bag sitting on our doorstep upon returning from our morning walk.
It had to be filled with candy, I thought to myself. Secondary to thoughts of chocolate, I wondered who had left the bag. While social with our neighbors, we have not yet become particularly close with anyone.
Once inside I peered into the bag. There was a fistful of black crinkle cut paper, a few small Tootsie rolls, a number of Dum Dums, two boxes of Nerds, and a small pumpkin snow globe. Thankfully, there was no need to hide my disappointment. As I continued staring at the bag, contemplating why someone would use such a large bag for such a small gift, I saw them. At the bottom of the bag sat two pieces of paper folded into squares. I opened them slowly and with loathing.
Yes. TheSuburbanMom.com. No, we were not the recipients of a kind holiday gesture. Rather, we had just been tagged in the suburban neighborhood version of a Halloween chain letter–pass it on.
As anyone who knows me can attest, I am nothing if not a team player. I taped the accompanying sign on our door. And later that day I took [S] shopping for treats for two other families.
When Russell arrived home, I told him his mission. Deliver a treat bag to the house across the street to our right. The gift bag was age appropriate for their two young children (think stickers, glow-in-the-dark-skeletons, candy, etc.). “What about the second bag?,” he asked. I hadn’t put the second bag together yet. “Do you think we could just re-gift the bag we received?,” I asked in earnest. He stared at me. “No,” he said firmly.
After the second bag had been completed, I told him to check the the first house on our street. They, too, have young children. Russell left and was gone for far too long. After 25 minutes, he returned out of breath. “Where have you been?,” I asked. “First, I did reconnaissance around our neighborhood to see which houses didn’t already have a Boo sign posted. And then I went to the house across the street, rang the doorbell and ran. They opened the door sooner than I thought they would. Now, the little boy is on high alert. I closed the car door and he opened his front door and looked down on the street. I think he saw my head.” After I finished laughing, I asked if he had delivered the second bag. “Yes,” he replied. “I had to park the car on the other end of the street so they wouldn’t see it.” “Did they see you?,” I asked. “I don’t know, I was too busy running away.” I laughed so hard I cried.
Regardless of the tricks and treats of this October, it is shaping up to be the most amusing Halloween yet.