November Sugar Blitz

After Halloween the real fun began. As soon as trick-or-treating was over, we took possession of the pillowcases and figured out whose was whose. Then we sorted through the loot one bag at a time, removing loose razor blades, open vials of poison and any suspicious-looking candy or obviously tamperable goodies, such as anything homemade or open. Then the kids had a chance to gloat, to swap, and to eat one or two pieces. The rest was bagged up and stowed in a secure location, such as a locked safe (you think I'm kidding).

Thereafter, for all of November and sometimes almost to Christmas, there was a daily negotiation for Halloween candy. The standard was one piece a day. Sometimes we were busy and skipped a day, but the cries of despair and lamentation kept that to a minimum. Occasionally, when the need for a bribe was great, an extra piece of Halloween candy was promised. This was highly effective, while it lasted.

The tradition had its associated rituals. One bag at a time, so the process could be suitably supervised. The candy would be upended, usually on the floor, and the process of selection would be drawn out as long as Mom could stand it. After gloating over each piece, narrowing the choices down to just one or two, one single candy would finally be selected and borne away to be savored. Then the next child had his turn.

As December rolled around, someone or other would run out, and the rest would be down to scant pickings, such as jawbreakers, Smarties, and atomic fireballs. As they got older, we would eventually just give them the last ten pieces or so. They would probably just throw them away anyway.

And just in time too. It was almost time for Santa to fill their wooden shoes with candy.