Ha! Years ago, we caught the ol’ gal when she smacked into a window. Shaky from a sugar high, she was lurking. Waiting to snag a loose tooth and be on her way. Instead, Dallas Cowboy Fan and I wrestled her down and cuffed her.
Don’t be surprised by her tiny-ness. For an imp, she’s meaner than she looks. (She bites.) We threatened her with anti-sugar (string cheese sticks). She gave us a mystical smirk like a cat who knows you’re a nitwit, then she signed an agreement. Sealed it with a wet lollipop and the chorus of “Runnin’ on Empty.” (So…that’s where Jackson Browne got the lyrics??).
Henceforth after holidays like Halloween, she’d swing by and pick up the pillowcase of sweets garnered by the trick or treaters in the house.
It’s like the buy-back program offered by car companies. Treats = Cash. Lots of Quality treats = Even more moola.
This isn’t really a hard choice. By the second day after Halloween, kids are about to puke from a chemical overdose of fructose and paraffin. They gladly sort their bags into tradeable and non-negotiable piles.
True to her contract, the next morning the candy was always gone and a wadded fiver was crammed under a kid’s pillow. Score! Shouts of “We’re going to gather more and really cash-in next year!” resounded through the house.
It was a clever plan until things changed.
Nobody at our house trick o’treats anymore. Unfortunately, the ol’ sugar bat still expects the contract to be honored. Last night I spied contrails of fairy dust through the kitchen which means she’s trying to collect those Costco truffles I’ve got stashed.
Maybe I can shoo her with a Skinny Cow? Come back in 5 months. I’ll have some jelly beans and purple peeps I’ll be willing to trade.