November 01, 2002 - 2:11 p.m.
Halloween. My dog's least favorite holiday. Not only are people constantly walking up and down the street and through the yard, ringing the doorbell and shouting, but they all look funny.
Zachary, on the other hand, had a wonderful time. It was too cold for Marcus to come along this year in his little tiger costume, but Zachary (Batman) spent about 20 minutes getting a decent horde of candy and then assisted handing more out to the children who came by.
I spent a large part of the evening annoyed by the first group of trick or treaters. It seems that the time it took me to put down the baby, take the cover off the bowl of treats and grab hold of the toddler to prevent him from charging into the street before opening the door took too long from their ring of the doorbell. After a couple yells of "Trick or Treat," they turned to "Hurry up slow poke!" and started kicking the door. I was a little surprised to find a group of little girls on the porch. They couldn't have been more than 9 years old. But I had to tell them I wasn't giving them anything because they were rude and kicked my front door. Better luck next year.
The rest of the kids were alright. Everyone said "trick or treat." Most said "thank you." No one else assaulted my front door. We had a couple jedi, a Spiderman, lots of ghouls and ghosts, a Disney princess and a medieval lady who had been watching A Knight's Tale too many times. (Cause everybody knows that face paint was so popular in the 14th century.) And we had just enough candy.
