A few minutes after the kids dressed as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had left, a pair of older kids, maybe 13 or 14 came up to the door. One simply wore basketball shorts and a Celtics jersey. The other wore jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Both held out pillow cases full of candy.

I reluctantly gave candy to the kid in the sports jersey; it may have been a costume, even if was also the exact same outfit he wore to basketball practice.

I turned to the plainclothes trick or treater.

“And what are you supposed to be?” I said.

There was a long pause as he tried to think of something clever. Not only had no one else asked him this question, he hadn’t even asked himself.

I interrupted his thought process. “That’s what I thought. Get the hell out of my yard.”

I closed the door, and the kid dressed as the mooching teenager walked away without any candy from me.




(Note: This is not how it really happened. Mainly because I hate cleaning egg off the siding of the house.)