A Halloween Vignette

It's 7:00 in the evening. Having already done our turn of trick-or-treating, which Ben bored of quickly, we are back home. A large bowl of candy sits by the door, the kind of stuff that Ben would never dream of touching. He has already gone through an entire large back of Smartees, carefully twisting open their individual wrappers and placing the loose candy in his plastic pumpkin. After every few wrappers he carefully gathers up the pile of empty wrappers to take them to the kitchen and throw them in the garbage. Now he sits in his pajamas watching a tape, as I putter around the kitchen making myself some dinner. Every now and then I hear the tromping of a herd of small feet and the twitter of giggling voices approaching my front door, followed by a knock.

There is just something oddly surreal about handing out Halloween candy to little ghouls and goblins while in the background the strains of Silent Night, Holy Night play from the Christmas tape Ben has chosen to watch this evening.