Last night was our first Halloween as homeowners in a neighborhood populated largely by young families, so I knew we would need to buy some candy for trick or treaters or risk being labeled the least favorite house on the block for all eternity. Still, I thought Dan was overdoing it when he picked up a second giant bag of assorted candy on Monday. I was convinced that we would end up eating half that candy ourselves, and told Dan so as the trick or treaters started to arrive early yesterday evening. They started coming while it was still daylight, mostly really little kids who had to be steered up the walk and instructed to hold their bag out and say their lines. They were cute, so I was handing them candy by the fistful. "Take it!" I said. "We have too much anyway!"

I don't want to ruin the surprise for you, but if you know anything about literary foreshadowing, you can pretty much tell what happens next.

Two hours later, Dan and I had resorted to a buddy system of swapping door shifts to deal with the sheer number of munchkins piling up into our yard. There were so MANY of them. I would sit in the front room with the window facing the street and yell "Incoming!" when a group turned towards our house. Dan would get the candy bowl, and by 7 p.m., we were getting more stingy with the handouts. Still, those two giant bags of candy were gone by 8 p.m. and we had to turn off our porch light and cower in fear, hoping we would not be eaten by the mobs of sugar-buzzed children storming around outside.

I am still so stunned by the whole thing that I'm not sure how many lessons there are to be learned from this, but I have figured out the key to trick or treating, should I ever decide to go: Be cute, get out there before the candy is gone, and hit the stupid new neighbor first!