Trick Or Treat Punks

Is it wrong to turn off your lights once the trick-or-treat punks come out?

We don't get very many trick-or-treaters at our place, but we get enough to detect three distinct "waves" of revellers. The first wave comes between 6pm and 7pm, and it is composed mainly of cute little kids with their parents. I like the first wave, and I enjoy giving them candy.

My brother and sister-in-law in Calgary (R's sister) have a cute little 2.5-year-old girl. Last year they dressed her up as a pumpkin, and she went trick-or-treating for her first time. They sent us pictures and it looked so cute. She even insisted on carrying her own little candy bag, despite the fact that she was constantly tripping on her enormous pumpkin costume. That is what the first wave is all about -- the cute little kids.

By 7pm, the cute little kids are on their way home, and you are left with the middle crowd. These kids are old enough to be out later without their parents, but they are courteous enough to bother wearing a costume when they come around looking for handouts. I don't mind the middle wave, because they are still doing it the right way.

The third wave hits its peak after 8pm. That's when the punks come out. Punks might be a harsh word, but I'm going to use it anyway. These are the kids that weren't planning on going trick-or-treating, but the thought of free candy was too much for them. The way I imagine it, a few of them get together in the evening and one says, "Hey, if we go run around, people have to give us stuff." The rest say, "Right on, let's go." On their way out the door, they realize that they're supposed to be wearing costumes. Two of them swap hats. Another one picks up a raincoat and an umbrella, and off they go, bags in hand.

When they arrive at my door, I want to tell them to go home -- I have some candy left, but it's for people in costumes. I know this won't get me very far, so I just give them a caramel and say good night. I'd always imagine that they'll come back later and egg my house or something.

The funny thing is, we used to do the same thing. I remember putting on a snowmobile suit while my brother grabbed the bag for his paper route and a pair of gumboots (he was in shorts, as well). We went running around the neighbourhood way later than we really should have. We were punks, but at least we made some effort, right?

Tonight we just turned out the lights after 8:30pm -- and then we left altogether. I guess I'm just an old humbug.