Patti and I do not live in the most privileged neighborhood. The plus side to that is that we bought our house for cheap. The down side is that trick-or-treaters don't wear costumes.

I use the term trick-or-treater lightly, because those who don't wear a costume also fail to say "trick or treat" when we open the door to give them free candy. Instead they hold out their school back pack without saying a word. I muster up, "Happy Halloween," and entitlement becomes as awkward as it sounds.

Ever since the first revelatory Halloween in this house, we've kept a tally of the kids who wear costumes and the kids* who do not. In 2006, exactly 36 trick-or-treaters knocked on our door (18 in costume, 18 without). This year an unprecendented 47 trick-or-treaters knocked on our door (22 in costume, 25 without).

I try to reward those in costume by giving them two pieces of high-quality Snickers and M&Ms, but the b-holes without costume usually crush that plan by snatching whatever they want from the candy bowl and then justifying their actions with the all-shall-be-forgiven phrase, "I like Twix."

* Even 20-year-olds (who have an infant in a stroller, yet don't bring the stroller to the door, but it doesn't matter because an infant can't eat candy anyways) are kids at heart.