Why I took my girls trick-or-treating

Ok, I said I wasn't going to, but they were so sad to see the big bowl of candy sitting out that we pulled out their ballet outfits, fished out some stockings, put up hair, and went out. Noogs had a pumpkin bucket for candy, and Babs, not wanting to share, found a beach bag. They're very small -- 3 1/2 and 2 -- so we took a big lantern with us and only covered half a block.

Here's my observations on my first trick-or-treating expedition with my own children (as opposed to my siblings):
1) Don't go to houses without the porch light on. I know this, of course, but I acted against it to stop at the house of some people we knew, and the girls were sad to find that there was no candy to be had there. Oh well.
2) If you open the door with a scary mask on, be prepared for small girls to shriek and sob. The flip side: don't allow your child to answer the door if you can't see if the person on the other side has a scary mask.
3) The leotard may be oh-so-cute but it's going to have to be under the sweater because the breeze is chill. This is one I remember from my own days of dressing as a ballerina and having to wear a thick jacket.
4) It's the best thing in the world to knock on a door to trick-or-treat and have it opened by Daddy!

Darwin fondly recalls the stegosaurus costume that his mother made him one year. This being Los Angeles, it was 100 degrees, but he wore that hot, heavy costume anyway. The youth have a resolve of steel about some things.

And true to my predictions, I'm sitting here eating Noogs' SweeTarts, snitched from her pumpkin when she wasn't looking.