…and not too many of them taller than me this year.
My son and his friends want to go out trick or treating tonight. He said they would wear raincoats and be hurricane evacuees. He is 6’3’’ tall and age 17. If you see him, tell him to go home. 
I think he and his friends just came by @ 8:35. A comparable group anyway. All the little kids finished up by 8. After this last bunch of overgrowns I blew out the jack o’lanterns and offed the porch lights so I could finally let the dog out. She goes a bit berserk when people come to the door, and has had to spend the past few hours upstairs.
Boy, we sure had a lot of trick or treaters this year! My husband had to make an emergency run to the store. We had a couple of little babies, one a pumpkin and the other a cow, that were awfully cute. I like the little sparkly rigged up princess dresses. One was made from some sort of semi-transparent plastic and it was really quite convincing—from a distance . It was really pretty warm and no rain, so a good time was had by all.
Just back a couple hours ago from our night of trick-or-treating.
Speaking of cute kids, my two are the ones on the right:
This pic is before they got all sugared up.
About an hour and a half after that, my son was bouncing off the mailboxes, and my daughter was crying for no apparent reason.
And then they fell asleep.
And now I’m paying bills. And reading C&F.
And rambling …
Cute!!!
And they all have your nose! 
Halloween in Tulsa, 1940
By Frank Morrow, quoted from http://tulsatvmemories.com/hallow40.html
The first time I went “trick or treating” that term was not in our lexicon. This was in 1940 in Tulsa before WWII, and I was in the second grade, going to Lanier Elementary. I had not even heard of the activity until my friend, Buddy Sutliffe, asked me to go with him on Halloween night to “ask for handouts.” He told me that we’d just get a couple of gunny sacks, and we’d go around from house to house. It sounded like fun to me.
It was so exciting. We’d go to each house, knock or ring the bell, and when someone opened the door, we’d cry out, “Hand outs! Hand outs!” The people usually would either give us something right then, or they’d lean down, reach into a big sack, and dig something out for us.
The booty consisted greatly of things the people made such as popcorn balls, candy or cookies, although some “store-bought” sweets were also given. Fruit also was handed out.
Occasionally people would ask us in and have a nice, but short, conversation with us. One man, wearing a skeleton costume, opened the door and roared, scaring the heck out of us. All the porch lights were on, and the kids were running from house to house and block by block, occasionally stopping to compare loot. They also would pass on tips as to where the best stuff was.
Soon our gunny sacks were bulging and getting heavy. It took both our tiny arms to manage them. We zipped home, got replacement sacks, and headed out again. By the time another hour had passed, and it was beginning to get late, we had our second sacks about half full.
Finally, the porch lights gradually went off, and the evening was at an end. Well, not exactly, because now we had the task of eating all the stuff that we had collected. This would take days to accomplish.
The fun and innocence of that night still warm me. The generosity of the people providing the “hand outs” was amazing, something I realized only in retrospect. The American economy was still suffering from the Great Depression, and most people lived on meager incomes. The fact that they would share so much just to make an unforgettable night for the children was a true act of generosity and love.
The night also was unique in hindsight because there was no danger to the children, either from predators or from the food itself. There was no commercialization, and no adult supervision. It was just pure joy of two generations of people coming together for an unforgettable night of magic.
The generosity of all Americans, no matter how much or little they have to share, never ceases to impress me.
Great story!
Most years we go through 3-4 bags of candy, and most years it starts at 6:00 and goes to about 10:00. MOST years we have a great handful of little little kids, a minor horde of the middlings, then the college kids show up until lights go out (I don’t mind them at all as long as they’re in costume and say ‘trick or treat’).
This year we had 10 kids. Ten.
Weather was good…no horror stories of child molesters in the neighborhood…where WERE they all???
Anyone want Twizzlers, Reeses and Gummi Worms?
Trick or treat! 
See, I even wore my Debbil costume for you.
Walden,
Your story is very much like I remember my Trick or Treat days, roughly 1958-1964. There were hoards of kids everywhere. I remember my mother giving us a curfew but, other than that, there was no supervision. The kids who had been to the apple or popcorn ball houses would let everyone else know because lots of them only wanted the store bought candy. I usually planned my route so I would be near home halfway through the evening. I’d deposit the first bag and go out again with a new one.
Last night we had half of our candy left when I put out the lights at 7:30 with no more kids in sight.
Mike
No wonder you had a small turnout. Chocolate. Its all about chocolate!
djm
Hah! So the great chocolate makers cartel conspiracy would have you believe.
Drags thread, kicking and screaming, to the political forum.
No no no no no…for Weight Watchers its all about not having anything you like too much in the house!
Maybe I can take it to the next meeting and leave it there?
JB…if you want it, I’ll send it over. . .but there is MUCH better candy in England. How about I trade you pound for pound for Smarties???
Toronto, 1962, 7yrs old. I go outside to hook up with a group, can’t find them. Luckily, I bump into a neighbor my age. The two of us go off on our own with the warning: ‘don’t get into anyone’s car.’ We also knew to watch out for kidnappers, which I imagined to be a guy in a rumpled suit and fedora,needing a shave. Must have been visualizing someone I knew and didn’t care for. We’re walking down a street and a guy who looks just like the aforementioned kidnapper tells us to go on up to a door, they have candy there. He gets into his car and leaves. We walk up to the porch, can hear people chatting inside, look at each other and decide against ringing that doorbell. The rest of the evening is uneventful.
I’m not sure if that’s the same year it rained and our paper bags got soaked. People put our ripped, wet bags into dry ones and we continued on. At home, I had to peel layers of wet paper to get candy from between them. No big deal. I think I had a cheap Frankenstein mask on with the flimsy nylon costume with a Frankenstein scene on the chest.
Tony
Yeah, I have a pound of Smarties here (chomp chomp) better make that 12 ounces (munch munch) er, half a pound (shlomp shlomp) 4 ounces (mmmm aaah) Oh, where did they go?