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Brian saw me as I came through the door and immediately ran away, feigning fear. I knew I looked more mysterious than I did scary, so I ignored him. He put on his plastic ant-mask gurgling at me. What was he supposed to be, anyway? Skeleton shirt, bat-cape and ant-mask. Brian had dressed up as a thing. Amy had the Egyptian look going with her white tunic, gold sequined belt and crown, a painted felt necklace across her shoulders. All I had to do was give her the Egyptian eyeliner, little eyes-of-Ra figures that made her look adorable. Some blue and yellow paint for eye shadow and she looked perfect. I sprinkled sparkles all over her face for a mystic effect. Cleopatra just isn't Cleopatra without sparkles.

Christine, or I should say, Mrs. Stillwell couldn't take enough pictures. They both looked so adorable, and she thought my authentic look was so well done. Soon enough, we were on our way. Looking back, listening to myself, I sounded just like a mother. "Now, we shouldn't be out past nine, and let me check anything people give you that's unwrapped. Best to just throw it away. Amy, don't make that face. You're supposed to be pretty. And Brian, if I hear the word 'tusher' one more time, I'm taking your candy and eating it myself." It was fun to feel this sort of responsibility. I loved the whole motherly role, scooting them from house to house, cooing over how cute they both looked.

Soon, another joined us. Her name was Mattie, and she was dressed as a mime, except all her white face paint was rubbing off. So the four of us hit the Summit: a posh apartment neighborhood. Picture this: the Summit contains more than twenty buildings. Each building has three stories with two flights of stairs per story. Each story has four apartments. You do the math, but we knocked on practically every last one of those doors, upstairs and down. Building after building. The children showed no signs of tiring. Blast the sugar for giving them too much energy!

After we'd exhausted the Summit's supply of candy, not to mention ourselves, we walked across the street to Spring Oaks, a street of perfectly gorgeous houses.

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I'd never been down that way before, but I fell in love with house after house, each neat and with manicured lawn. All they were missing were the white picket fences. We went to both witches' houses, which were actually mothers who got a bit too carried away with their roles and actually scared off a few teenagers. I'm over that sort of thing, but the last one was quite believable.

We dropped Mattie off with her older sister, and then flopped down on a curb to rest our aching feet (or rather mine, the kids were ready and rearing to go) and sort through our bags, munching from time to time. I've found the majority of candy given out on Halloween is chocolate. Fruity and sour type candy comes at a close second. The thing we don't get enough of is bubble gum; that and bottle caps, candy sticks and red licorice. Just my humble opinion.

I wouldn't mind more sour skittles either. Lollipops, on the other hand, whereas they were sparser four years ago, have made quite a comeback.

After our break, I looked at the time and found it was getting late. The children of course moaned and groaned and complained, but I insisted that the people taking down their Halloween decorations was a sign they were no longer giving out candy anyway. They agreed and we trekked homeward to the annoying sounds of Brian, yelling at the top of his tiny lungs, "HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!"

Walking through my door was a relief. It was abnormally balmy out for an October night, and the air conditioning hit me like a fresh breeze. I found that maybe there are better things than being the child, dressed up and grinning, holding out her tiny pillowcase and singing "trick or treat!" But instead, for the first time I can experience being the mother, waiting on the curb, smiling at her daughter as she skips ahead, blissful in her little costume, feeling the pride and adoration of this small creature that yesterday was a little girl.