The Candy

The Countdown. 
The Collection. 
The Candy.

So, we didn't have any crazed monsters emerging from hibernation that made my children run like mad to any house with a lit porch light.  However, we still ended up with a lot of Halloween candy.  It's a simple matter of mathematics; amassed candy is exponential with 7 Trick-or-Treaters (even when one is only collecting canned food items for the local food pantry).

Once The Run is done, the kids find a spot on the living room floor and dump the contents of their pillowcases, forming mounds of what will next be categorized sweets... the Gum, the Suckers, the Chewies, the Sours, the Chocolate (ah, if they only knew that this should be partitioned out into "Good Chocolate" and "Fake Chocolate"), the Others, and finally the Icky Stuff With Coconut for Dad.

After bartering and trading with each other, my kids are happy to share their Loot with me, and sometimes they don't even know it.  Afterall, I have easy access to the bowl on top of the refrigerator.  It's a sick secret Halloween desire, but every year I wish the kids would just eat it all that night and thus get  it quickly out of the house. 

I make myself an oath to only have a few pieces of  the "good" stuff (Twix, Payday, Baby Ruth, Kit Kat... Oh! I didn't know there were Snickers with Almonds!).  I swear off the lesser candy.  Really.  But after the likes of the elites are gone, I'll give in to a few of the mini M&Ms, Whoppers, and Twizzlers.  

And that's it.

But long after the costumes have been put away and the decorations taken down, Ziplock bags of candy will still linger in the dark hidden recesses of cabinets and closets. The children will have forgotten, but unfortunately I won't, and eventually I'll finally succumb to the Necco Wafers and the molasses laced confections of Mary Janes and Peanut Butter Kisses (you know the ones... in the black and orange wrappers.)  

It's truly the bottom of the barrel,

And it's creepy down there.