I got home from work a little earlier than usual and immediately resumed my spot on the sofa-- a bag of chips in one hand, a remote control in the other. I dozed off sometime between "Judge Judy" and "Divorce Court". I was awakened to the sound of a knock on the front door. Who the heck would be knocking on my door? Who even knew that I would be home at this time of the day? Maybe I dreamed it. I muted the TV and waited for another knock, and it came. I remained on the sofa, in a half-comatose state of mind imagining who could be on the other side of the door. Was there a fire, a gas leak? Why would someone bang on my door over and over? Then it hit me. Today was Halloween. It was a trick-or-treater. My mind began to race-- I didn't prepare for the kids-- what would I give them? They could grab a handful of Dorito's from my bag. A Marlboro? A Bud Light? I remembered the bag of Jolly Rancher suckers that were left over from last year's Halloween fiasco. Or was it from two years ago? I grabbed the sack of suckers from the panty and ran to the door. As I opened the door, I saw the cutest little ballerina walking away from my house with her Mom-- it was the litle girl from across the street that I call Popsicle. As I unloaded the bag of old suckers into her pumpkin bucket she said "I love trick or treating!". I loved her, too. Seeing little Popsicle in her Halloween costume reminded me of all of the times that my parents dressed me up and sent me out with the gang on Halloween. Those were magical memories and I felt sad that Popsicle was the only kid running the streets tonight. Hopefully, she didn't notice that she was alone in her conquest for candy. I'm sure she racked up, being the only child in a neighborhood full of elderly widows and gay men! I vow to be better prepared for Popsicle's visit next Halloween!