We lived in an awesome neighborhood, where parents would bus their kids in. Eight kids would pile out of a battered of Dodge Caravan, run up to the house, rob us of candy, and jump back in their ride to the next house. What happened to kids walking door to door? Are we THAT lazy???
In the new house, we're set far off a busy road, down a loooooong driveway (that I'm even scared to drive down, let along walk down dressed like a sexy kitten). And while the freak October storm post-poned Halloween until some random day in November (hey! at least candy will be 50% off!), our town kept the tradition alive.
Everywhere but our house.
It was our first year without trick-or-treaters. Gone was the doorbell ringing, Vito throwing his little body against the gate at the top of the stairs, the incessant barking, him panting his fish breath all over the place.
Yep, Vito could not have been happier. That is, until it was time for his costume:
Just because we don't have trick-or-treaters, doesn't mean we don't dress up!
And then he hated Halloween all over again.
PS: this is Day 1 of NaBloPoMo, bee-otches! bring it!