I accompanied Alex, Norris and some of their friends while they guided their toddlers (and a few babies) through the complex maze of trick-and-treating. The weather was mild and dry, a surprise ending to a day of intermittent showers. We did our business in the Eastmoreland neighborhood, a short distance from their home. It's a lovely area near Reed College -- winding streets, lots of gorgeous trees, and -- most important last night -- a determination to celebrate the night. I saw some of the most elaborate scary yards ever -- skeletons rising out of graves, eerie smoke rising everywhere, creepy music and selective lighting. It seemed that thousands of kids wandered around, everyone in a festive mood. One home had erected a party tent on their lawn and were sharing pizza and beer with their neighbors. One woman sat in a chair next to a portable fire pit in her driveway, drinking a glass of wine and tossing candy out to the costumed kids.
Truman and his friends lasted about an hour, but made a pretty good haul just in that time. By the time we arrived home to eat our pizza, he had crunched up a Tootsie Roll Pop, chomped down a stick of red licorice and was begging for more. The morning after report includes two candy bars before breakfast. (Apparently, he found the plastic pumpkin, even though it was hidden.) Alex and her young, diligent parents were shocked to hear what I told them about what my brother and I were directed to chant at the homes of Grandpa Ralph's friends and relatives: "Trick or treat, money or eats; beer or booze for Daddy." Then we'd stop for a visit at each of those homes. Different times!
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