More "Trick" than "Treat"

I had high hopes for trick-or-treating.  Being far over-aged to secure treats for myself, I rested assured that James' toddler grin and adorable outfit would bring enough loot for the both of us.  I was sorely disappointed. 

James was thrilled to follow the kids up to each door, squealing and giggling.  But he failed to catch the vision of what was literally there for the taking.  Porch after porch, he left the owner hanging as he did an about-face and bounced away, happily empty handed. 

James shared a moment with this adorable widower who dresses up himself and his house from head to toe every year.

 

 Note the exasperation in Rue's face: "TAKE IT!!" 

On one occasion, James actually took the candy, only to throw it right back in the bucket, giggling, before running off.

                                             

Rue does not take Halloween lightly.  When I asked him where his shoes were on this chilly evening, he looked at me like it was a ridiculous question.  "I'm a gladiator.  Gladiators don't wear shoes."



Contrast that to his little brother.  Max insisted on wearing his green cowboy boots, Gladiator or no. 

He then declared that his legs were tired and demanded to join James in the wagon.  This quickly evolved into sending the other children up to the porch on his errand. 

Rachel, also quite the Halloween enthusiast, was less-than-amused with her son.  The last straw for her, though, was when this well-meaning man actually brought the bowl across the yard right to the wagon, lest Max over-exert himself.



The evening was as good as over for James once he found a sucker.  Who could ask for more?

But wait!  How did this hat get back on?

The very last house.  Still working on that sucker, he finally catches the vision of trick-or-treating.  Too little, too late.



A los "papas mexicanos" de James... queridos Betty y Erasmo: 
!Los extranamos y los queremos mucho!  Besos y abrazos de su pequeno mariachi...