Halloween

Halloween is all about getting scared. There are spooky decorations, creepy costumes and scary movies on TV. But everyone knows Halloween is really about one thing: candy. And there isn’t a Haunted House around that can make me scream with terror like the thought of stepping on a bathroom scale come November 1st.

As a kid, I loved Trick or Treating; the concept of getting free candy was just too cool. Now I’m a grown up, and know it’s more fun to give than receive (because that’s what I’m supposed to say).

All this candy is good for the economy. According to an article I just read, the Halloween season now tops the year in candy sales, out-pacing Christmas and Easter. The article said one key to success is retailers stock Halloween candy earlier. I’ve noticed, and it's handy when you can buy Halloween candy and fireworks in the same trip!

My hubby, Steve, is one of those who stocks up early. The early bird gets the worm, as they say— in this case the Gummi worm. And to make sure that worm is well-fed Steve brings home bags of Reeses, Milky Ways and Butterfingers. He wants to be prepared for Halloween. He also likes to have bags of candy around so after lunch or dinner, he and our daughter, Kelly, can have one of those little candy bars for dessert. This concept of moderation is something I have trouble with.

I eat candy for the same reason some people climb a mountain: because it’s there. And I’m not the type to get half way up that mountain and turn around. So when Steve brings home Halloween candy I complain, “I’m going to pig out and ruin my diet! And anyway, you need to quit buying things I like!”

“Okay…what should I buy that you don’t like?”

I can never come up with anything. When it comes to candy, I don’t exactly have a discriminating palate. And having all that candy around means trouble.

You know how those Halloween candy bars are called “Fun Size?” By Halloween, let’s just say I’ve had a lot of fun, and we have to re-stock more than once if we hope to have anything left for Trick or Treaters. According to that article, this type of repeat purchase means Halloween candy sales have been gaining at 1-3% a year (the approximate pace of my weight gain over the same time period).

I’m not happy about overindulging, but Halloween candy makes it so easy. Normally I try to follow Weight Watchers where you count “Points” based on the number of calories in the food you eat. But at Halloween I only eat those tiny candy bars. I tell myself—and myself listens—to the argument that candy companies don’t even put the calories on those candy bars because they’re so small. So I don’t need count them.

This logic backfires. By Halloween, in an orange shirt, I begin to resemble The Great Pumpkin.

The last part of the article got me thinking. It said sales have exploded in the “gross out” category of candy, a category unappealing to adults. (This might be because we get enough gross stuff in real life…things like cleaning up cat barf that kids won’t touch with a 10-foot pole and a Haz-Mat suit).

I wondered...is there a kind of candy so repulsive it would keep me from eating it? Nah, something gross wouldn’t bug me if was made of candy.

Then I thought of something I really couldn’t eat. It’s too late for this year, but I might have a chance next year. If it exists, it will solve everything. Even if it’s made of Godiva chocolate, I really couldn’t touch Halloween candy shaped like a bathroom scale.