Get your sticky hands off my knocker

The grocery store contains two kinds of patrons: (1) Adults who are desperately trying to kill time so they don't have to go home and hide in their cave-like dark house and (2) Parents who are cruel enough to only allow their kids to trick or treat at local businesses, i.e. grocery stores.

I am one of the former.

This is a free country, right? I mean, I stood in the Vote Early line this morning and voted like a good American should. So why do I feel so guilty about not answering my door? That every single light in my house is out and I'm burning my retinas by staring at this computer screen like a loser who never gets invited to a Halloween party?

No, it's not a secret that children aren't my favorite things to collect. But I'm not evil. It's just that tonight's potential turnout on my street is unwieldy. This entire neighborhood is devoid of children except for this street.

AND let me describe one of the costumes I saw on a 10-year-old girl. I think she was supposed to be a cat? A witch? Lindsay Lohan? All I know is she was wearing those shiny skin-tight leggings and a little top. AND her parents (or some adults) were with her and her friends. . .

I remember being a tiger in a baggy homemade striped tiger suit (I loved this so much that when I got too tall for it, I cut the feeties off and continued to wear it.) I remember being a witch that had nothing to do with a leotard. A clown, even a birthday party.

Who lets their kids go out in public like this? Did the parents take a picture before leaving the house to preserve the evening? "Ok sweetie, smile at Daddy."

So, my next question is probably expected but I'm going to ask it anyway: Why do females use Halloween as an excuse to dress like frustrated sluts?

I know this girl doesn't have the best of role models and I'm not even talking about Britney Spears, blahblahblah. I'm talking about adult women who feel it's perfectly ok to go into public places as long as it's Halloween, grocery stores for instance. Itsy bitsy tight black little dress that kept its "R" rating only because it had a smiling pumpkin stitched on it, black and orange stockings held in place by black garter belts and really high black stilettos. This would normally spell "slut" to me but she was about 50, which just meant it was sad.

This is what that little girl will look like on Halloween 40 years in the future.

Which brings me back to my first point. Why is it the norm for those of us who choose not to partake in childhood diabetes issues or encourage once-a-year hooker dressing to hide like moles in utter darkness? For whatever reason. My reason is my unwillingness to part with the fun-size Three Musketeers.

I feel like I'm taking one for the team. I mean, childhood obesity is at an all time high. I'm saving the children from that ooey gooey nougat stuff that I could eat in bowl with a spoon sans chocolate.

But, like I said, it's a free country.

I should be celebrated not egged.