Happy Halloween
Here's My Card
By Kellie Head

Although we have lived in this area for almost four years, it didn't occur to me until last Halloween night just how little I actually know about my neighbors.

Bob Gilbert is a jeweler. I had always assumed he worked out of a storefront, until Bobby Jr. made his trick-or-treating rounds dressed in his daddy's suit. When he rang the bell, he flashed his jacket open, exposing designer knock off watches. He made me a good deal on a matching His and Her set, but that isn't the point.

Little Cindy Jackson wore a mid-1950's style, moth-hole ridden cheerleading outfit and carried molting pom-poms. So much for her mother's claims of being 39 again this year.

Manning the front door during prime candy-collecting hours provided me with a wealth of knowledge about the inhabitants of my neighborhood. However, the most accurate data was retrieved from the contents of my children's trick-or-treat bag.

The Dentist next door distributed personalized toothbrushes, in an obvious attempt at gaining new patients. I understand the concept of his advertising, but perhaps tooth-rotting candy would be a quicker means to the same end.

They also received house-shaped magnets from the local realtors. Apparently this is the largest growing business in the area. We found several of these magnets hidden within the Tootsie Rolls and Zagnut bars. Multiply it by my six kids and we could personally alter the magnetic pull of the Earth's gravitation.

Other goodies among the loot were apple-shaped erasers from teachers, rubber gloves filled with popcorn from the doctors, a tax rate schedule from the CPA (always a big hit with children) and milk bones from the veterinarian on the block. The receptionist of the city's most prestigious law firm offered pre-validated parking slips.

This year, to advertise my job as a mother, I'm going to join this new trend in trick-or-treating by passing out my children for the weekend. That way, treat for me, trick for my neighbors.