How Scary! The Countdown to the Mob at My Front Door
The chipmunks have already gotten to my one and only pumpkin—the one I wouldn’t buy, so my father got one for me. Congratulations, Dad. The wildlife in my yard would like to say thank you for dinner.
It’s T minus four days until Halloween, and I’m getting scared. The weather is supposed to be nice—sunny and 60, so that Chewbacca’s won’t boil and yet the Britney Spearses won’t freeze. Plus, the holiday falls on a Friday this year, so there will be more kids than usual. And they’ll all come here—the first house on the most popular trick or treating street in my neighborhood.
I haven’t bought any yet, because I’m holding out for a sponsor, a candy company that will bail out my Halloween by donating candy in exchange for a prime advertising spot: My front door.
Think of it: the kids around here will think your company is a hero for ensuring that they get the good stuff, and not a handful of candy corns and year-old lollipops like I’m currently planning. Grown-ups will love you, too, especially my husband, who will be guaranteed we won’t get TP’ed for handing out cheap candy. I think I said it best here:
So if you’d like to sponsor my Halloween, e-mail me. The kids (and my trees) will thank you.