Tricks, for sure.

Our house is going to get egged this Halloween, of that I am certain.

No, we remembered to take down our Christmas lights (eventually). And no, we haven’t forgotten to bring in our garbage bins. To the best of my knowledge no one in our household has started any feud recently.

But for sure we are going to get egged.

It goes back to November 1 of last year. That’s the day my husband went candy shopping for this year. He was pretty pleased with himself and the deals he found. And we have patiently stored his haul for 364 days. He hid it in a shopping bag at the back of our storage closet, which is overkill – no one was scheming to sneak some of that candy.

When I was a kid, stumbling upon the house that gave out full-size chocolate bars was like winning the lottery. The only thing better was the neighbour who handed out cans of pop, but that’s another story for another day. I dreamed of the day that I would be the grown-up making Halloween dreams come true and be the house that everyone flocked to because FULL SIZE BARS, GUYS. Some dreams do not come to fruition.

Don’t get me wrong, I am all for buying post-Halloween candy on the cheap, but let’s be very clear, in no way is it to save for a full year. Nope – that candy is what gets me to Christmas break, plain and simple.

AND THIS IS WHY WE ARE GOING TO GET EGGED AND WE DESERVE IT.

img_20191029_1846403424858405409876107.jpg

There is a reason this candy was deeply-discounted. It is the worst. It’s not good the first time around, let alone after a year of sitting in our basement. Actually, I believe all the molasses kisses were made back in 1943 and the company has just been trying to unload them on people like my husband, my mom, and one person on the staff where I work. They are the only people I have ever met who choose molasses kisses over other candy options. Also I suspect they might be robots. Or aliens.

Dubble Bubble gum tastes stale when it’s fresh out of the wrapper. Did you know it can get even staler? It can. It did. I think I’ll keep a few handfuls to launch a counter-attack to the inevitable band of youth who will be pelting our house with eggs.

Rockets. They are just a sadder version of Sweet Tarts. Rockets taste like if Sweet Tarts were bullied: powdery defeat.

My well-intentioned and budget-conscious husband insists that these candies are “fine” and that “free candy is free candy”. To humour him, I offered samples of them to our boys and their friends. Surprisingly, the Dubble Bubble rallied briefly and was chewable. But ultimately it gave up it’s flavour within moments (not a surprise BECAUSE IT’S DUBBLE BUBBLE).

The molasses kisses were met with mixed reviews. The neighbour kid said it tasted find, but ended up spitting it out (see?). And one of my sons described them as “not that bad. Like a better version of a raisin.”

I rest my case.

Please send me your cleaning tips for removing eggs from bricks.

img_20191029_184701720318416028323138.jpg
Behold, portable angst in a seasonal wrapper.