Memories of Halloween

The Rozzle got to experience her first real Halloween last night. Oh, sure, we got her up in a pumpkin costume last year, but she wasn't even WALKING at the time, so the idea of going trick-or-treating was pretty pointless. Especially since I detest parents who push their obvious 9-month olds up to the house…what, your toothless kid is gonna gum to death a mini-Snickers bar?? Get the fuck outta here, you free-candy mooches!

This year, though, Roz was rarin' to go. She was dressed in her Mickey Mouse costume, and plainly told Tess "I wanna go find some skeletons!" as they headed out the door. I held down the fort, doling out candy to the other kids, but since Tess was only taking Roz around the neighboring blocks I espied them often. Roz was tromping determinedly along, telling Tess (as she relayed to me later) "I want some more candy!" And, in true Halloween fashion, when she finally got tired and cold, she spread her loot out on the floor and proceeded to eat whatever she could actually open herself. Which turned out to be a lot.

*sigh* At my age, though, I still really miss the Halloween of the '70s. I told Tess last night that I used to be able to pretty much fill a pillowcase while trick-or-treating, but of course there were lots of things I brought home that you "can't" hand out anymore. Homemade popcorn balls, wrapped in tinfoil…5 or 6 of those take up a LOT more room than the ubiquitous Hershey and Mars mini-candybars. Homemade brownies and cookies were common, too. I remember a couple of houses offered kids a choice: candy from a bowl, OR a caramel apple. No fool me, I always took the apple. And there was never a razor blade in it…never any poison…just good, homemade food offered up by old widows and middle-aged housewives, who had both the time and the inclination to make it.

That fucker with they Tylenol. He's the cause of the loss of all that, right? Him and his stupid arsenic. I hope that asswipe is takin' it up the tailpipe by 6 or 7 of the biggest bull queers that prison has to offer. Nightly. Guys with dicks the size of billy clubs, only thicker. I hope he's so filled up with cum when they've finished that it oozes out his ears. Ruin it for everybody, you jackoff! Hmph.

Well. That's my happy Halloween post, I guess. *grins awkwardly* Roz had a great time, and I got to remember a time that was greater. By me, anyway. She'll never know the difference, and that's the way it should be. I'll just be one more old geezer, tellin' her how awesome things were "back in the old days." And she'll roll her eyes and complain "Daaaa-aaad!" And that's the way it should be too. Happy November, everyone.