Last year I was besieged by trick or treaters. A never-ending procession of them trooping up the path to the front door. Not that I really minded, but it would have been good to be able to put my feet up for an hour and chill. At one stage it was so busy that it seemed that they were working in relays. I’m sure I saw the same masks and costumes more than once. Were they popping round the corner and swapping outfits with their mates so they could work in relays?
So this year I was prepared. The fruit bowl was full of sweets (candies to our linguistically-challenged friends from across the pond who were, I believe, responsible for the trick or treat palaver in the first place) and strategically placed. And what happened? Almost nothing. One visit from two very sheepish looking ghouls, who seemed surprised when I told them to take another handful if they wanted.
So the chocolate supply was barely touched. Quality Street anyone? And what happened to Penny for the Guy?
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