Halloween Candy

We seldom get trick-or-treaters at my house, but at the last minute my daughter convinced me we needed to get Halloween candy just in case.  “We’ll eat whatever’s left” she assured me. Yes, that was exactly what I was afraid of. If I’m going to eat candy I’d rather eat good candy, not the crap sold in sacks at Acme, but I’m not willing to offer that to the few kids that wander by. We bought the sack that included Whoppers (which I recall liking, but now seem to be coated in some kind of brown waxy substance), Almond Joys (eh), Heath Bars (now we’re talkin’) and Reeses Peanut Butter Cups (OK, they have nostalgic value, and it is a classic combo I love).

I got a total of one group of kids, and was generous with handfuls of candy, but we still have a lot left. When she got home on Saturday night my daughter (the reason I have this odious candy) informed me that she and her friends had each taken a pledge to give up one unhealthy food, and she had chosen sugar. Not all sugar mind you, she can still drink hot chocolate, and eat tomato jam and blueberry jam, but specifically candy. And now I am left with the better part of this sack of lousy candy and I’m all for her giving up sugar, but couldn’t she wait until we finished the candy she insisted we bring into the house?

I’m not sure how it happened, but there seem to be some empty candy wrappers on my counter this morning; clearly I can’t be trusted to be alone with leftover Halloween candy. Throwing it out seems like the best idea, but it feels so wasteful. Conversely I can’t in good conscience offer it to someone else, and frankly in early November candy is very hard to give away; who would want it? Do you think I can freeze it and pull it out next Halloween? And honestly, I’d have no trouble eating frozen candy, so back we circle to me and that candy alone in a dark house, late at night, with the wind howling, and a creak on the stairs. Now that’s a great opening for my kind of horror movie.