The kids will be done trick-or-treating, and eating
Huge handfuls of goodies, their Halloween haul
The next step, I know, will be crying, denying
The obvious truth, that they’ve eaten it all.
Their guts will be grumbling—no faking the aching
From too many candy bars, eaten too fast
It seems that’s the point of the season—no reason
To learn self-control and make chocolates last
On Halloween, kids Carpe Diem; you see ’em
With no other thought than of seizing the day
Save some for tomorrow? Unheard of! One word of
Advice to “save something” is fast pushed away
But…winter is coming, the darkness, the starkness,
The warmth disappearing along with the sun
We’ll probably think about sorrow tomorrow…
Tonight we can spare a few hours of fun.
The Cuttlekids have long since outgrown trick-or-treating, and in our neighborhood, the kids in the know all head to a newer development about a mile away, where the streets are paved with chocolate, the neighbors compete to outdo one another’s scary decorations, and every house hands out full-sized candy bars. Last year I think maybe six kids came to Cuttlehouse. And I swear, I wasn’t handing out bibles!
This year, I am alone with the dogs, so I’ll probably be the mean old man who keeps his lights off, if only to keep my dogs from having heart attacks as the two or three masked creatures come to the door.
Wow. I had no idea I had all that.