trick or treat? (m)

You may recall from my blog back two years ago that my husband's favorite holiday is Halloween.  I'm sure some psychologist could explain it to me because I do not understand his fascination with this one holiday.  I measure "fascination" by the involvement index.    He pulls the decorations out of the shed, spends hours arranging the skeletons and witches and fog lamps, buys the candy, gets home early and stands by the door and hands the candy out and talks to each kid.

Hurricane Sandy caused a postponement of Halloween from Wednesday of this week until tonight--Friday.  I look at the calendar.  We have another commitment.  Perfect.

My husband calls me mid-day.

T: What's the plan for tonight?
Me:I'll meet you at the rink around 6 p.m. for the skating exhibition.
T: No!  I mean Halloween!  What are we going to do?
Me: What do you mean what are we going to do?  We are going out.  Lights out, no one home.
T: We can't do that to the kids.
Me: I can.
T: Well, I'll come home early and set things up.

My husband grew up in Ozzie and Harriet-land where people left their cars unlocked in their driveways.  He operates by the honor system.  His plan for Halloween is to put $50 worth of candy in a large red bucket (the one I use to cool drinks in the summer) and attach a sign telling kids to help themselves.

Here's the message on the sign:

Sorry we aren't here.  Please help yourself to two pieces of candy.  Happy Halloween!

He plugs in the spooky orange lights and we head out.

We arrive back home at 9:30 p.m.  and T checks the front porch.

Me:  Well? Did you get any customers?
T: The candy's all gone.
Me: Okay, good.
T: Everything's gone.
Me: Yes, you said that.
T: No, everything. They even took the bucket!

So, a good guy leaves the treats and the kids still play a trick on him.