My younger daughter came down the stairs Halloween afternoon. She looked radiant (who wouldn’t while sporting a Miss Piggy wig and tiara?) and ready for prime time. I couldn’t help grinning at her (although I got a little irked when she flicked me with her boa), and I blurted out, “You guys have such a great childhood!”
She looked at me quizzically.
“Well, it’s nice that in our neighborhood older kids still go out,” I said, thinking of the several baritone requests I receive every Halloween to “trick or treat.”
“How can you be too old to trick or treat?” she asked, wonderingly.
“Well, I didn’t trick or treat any more at your age,” I said.
She gawked. She is a very gentle child (when she’s not rebuking me for some moral failing), but the core of steel we occasionally see was suddenly in full evidence.
“Well I’m going to keep going until THEY TURN ME AWAY!” she announced, and huffed off, her boa trailing behind her in indignation.
