The Robin Hood of Halloween candy

We were totally prepared. On the counter sat an enormous felt pumpkin, filled with candy. Candy candy. Skittles, Starburst, Twizzler, Tootsie Pops, Bit o'Honey. All the chewy gooey candy a kid could ever want. We had just returned from our own trick or treating adventure and had carefully gathered the candy that Max's new braces wouldn't allow - it was all there, isolated in the pumpkin, ready to be re-distributed to the late arrivals on this rainy Halloween night.

He must have reached past that, over into my mixer that sat tucked away in a corner. Hidden inside it's massive stainless steel bowl, covered by the plastic splatter shield, was my stash. A bag of KitKats, and a bag of Nestle chocolate bars - the miniature size - with the ingredients listed in spanish. The good stuff.

I heard the roving band of neighborhood children approaching, and as their voices and laughter swelled and the automatic light snapped on next to the steps, I heard the crinkle of cellophane.

I was already in bed, and it took me a moment to put it together. To realize that he was giving away my stash, my precious chocolate stash, to the assortment of children (most too old for trick or treating in my opinion) that were standing on my back porch in the rain at 9:30 at night, hooting and hollering.

A travesty.

It was wasted on them. If you had given them a choice between a few miniature chocolate bars or great fistfulls of Starburst, I imagine they would have preferred the fruity goodness over my tiny wedges of chocolate. It didn't mean anything to them, it was just a drop in their pillowcases full of candy.

But it meant something to me. With a noise that bordered on a roar, I clamored out of bed and pulled on my robe. I rounded the corner to the kitchen pulling my robe closed as the door swung shut behind him. "Get back here!" I hissed.

But he couldn't hear me over the revelry on our back porch. He didn't realize his error until he opened the door and stepped back inside. And came face to face with a woman, rousted from her warm bed on a rainy night, to find her chocolate being given away to some obnoxious kids who probably didn't even like chocolate.

As you might imagine, I was devastated.

Distraught.

I did the only thing I could do.

I went to the pantry, opened up one of the 2 grocery bags filled with halloween candy that we had just stuck in there, and pulled out a half-dozen pieces of chocolate. I fucking hate this holiday.