Trick or Treat

by Rob Perez

The evening is coming when children, and I use that term “children” loosely, will come to my door, dressed in costumes that range from cute to the macabre to the barely there. These little people will hold their bag of candy/loot in front of me, and utter the phrase “Trick or Treat”.

I am not a monster. I will not mention to the five-year-old in front of me wearing the fourth Frozen costume I’ve seen tonight what sugar will do to her teeth.

I am not a ghoul. I will not tell the ten-year-old sporting the fifth store-bought, made-in-China Harry Potter ensemble – robe, scarf, glasses, and scarf – the way the human body metabolizes sugar is in the liver.

I am not a beast. I will not mention to the thirteen-year-old rocking an anime costume from a show I’ve neither seen nor heard of that for the first time in history kids are not expected to live longer than their parents because of, among other things, obesity, type 2 diabetes, and heart disease.

I am not a troll. I will not mention to this sixteen-year-old who has shown up long after I’ve closed up shop for the night, ignorning that my porch light is off and, incidentally, he’s not even bothered to put on a costume whatsoever other than sunglasses, but I will not mention to him that processed food – and candy is certainly processed food – isn’t just toxic; it’s addictive.

I am not the devil. I know Halloween is only for one evening a year. And yet, I’m confused by the arrangement. I give the kids a candy and, in return, I get… the pleasure of seeing the kids in a costume? I mean, the whole exchange starts with a question: “Trick or Treat”. In the 1966 classic, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown”, the kids say, “Tricks or Treats”. Tricks – plural. But I’m a modern man. I can live with one, the singular. So how bout it, kid? How about a trick?

I mean, I know you’re a kid so I’m not talking about David Copperfield stuff. How about a simple card trick, kid? Do you know three-card Monty? No?

Look. You’re a kid. I’m not looking for David Blaine type stuff. Just the everyday, pick-a-coin-from-behind-my-ear trick would suffice. Do you know that one? No? You wanna just give me a quarter then? No? Well, then we’re going to have to work something out.

Can you say Abracadabra and pull a rabbit out of a hat? No? Well, look, then I’m going to have to tell you that the average American consumes seventeen teaspoons of sugar every day, and before I personally am responsible that number, you’re going to have to well, sweeten your side of the deal.