I feel good enough for you

It's that time of the year again. The only time of the year where children are not only encouraged to talk to strangers, but to take candy from them, too. Every kid's dream.

Halloween.

Claire's beyond psyched. She and her friend Zoe are planning to trick-or-treat together, and I was volunteered to be the guardian/babysitter. Claire decided to go as Gabriella from High School Musical 5, and Zoe immediately decided to be Sharpay so they could match. They both tried to convince me to go as Troy, but I decided to stick to the old tried-and-true Scream mask.

Now it's the big night. I pull into the Youngs' driveway and, mask in hand, let myself in. Mrs. Young is busy curling Claire's long black hair, and Mr. Young is in the little kitchen dumping Reese's Cups and Hershey bars into an orange plastic bowl. "Hey, Quil," he greets me.

"Hi, Mr. Young," I reply respectfully. "Hi, Mrs. Young. Hey, Claire-bear."

"Hi, Quil!" Claire says. "Do you like my hair? Mom is making it beautiful." Mrs. Young laughs.

"You look great," I assure her. "Your mom's doing a good job on it. What time is Zoe coming?" I should probably get introduced to Little Terror number two before I head out on my Halloween-trick-or-treat-guardian duties.

"She should be here any minute," Mrs. Young answers. She unclamps the curling iron, and Claire's dark hair bounces in a ringlet down her back. And speak of the devil, the doorbell rings. Mr. Young puts down the candy and goes to answer it.

"Hi there, Linda. Hey, Zoe. Claire's right inside," Mr. Young tells the blonde family on the porch. The little girl, who is wearing a sparkly blue dress, dashes eagerly in to meet Claire and Mrs. Young.

"You're done, Clairey," Mrs. Young says. She unplugs the hot iron from the wall, wraps it up, and leaves Claire and Zoe to their seven-year-old fun.

"You look pretty," Zoe compliments Claire. Claire grins widely and executes a little twirl for her friend.

"So do you," she responds. "I like your dress." Zoe turns around like Claire did to show the back of her dress. Claire nods in approval. "Zoe, this is Quil. He's my friend. He's gonna take us trick-or-treating." Claire grabs my hand and squeezes it. I smile brightly down at Claire, then turn to Zoe.

"Hey, Zoe," I say casually. Zoe waves shyly, then stuffs her hands behind her back. I look at Claire. "Are you two ready to go?"

"Yeah!" cheers Claire excitedly.

"Do you have something to put your candy in?" I double-check.

"Yep, me 'n' Zoe both have pillowcases," Claire assures me.

"'Kay, then I think you're all set," I decide. I look toward Mr. and Mrs. Young, who are finishing the candy preparation. "What time do they need to be home?"

"Oh, eight would be fine," Mrs. Young tells me.

"I'll have them back then," I promise. "Ready, girls?" Claire and Zoe nod vigorously and lead me out the door. They skip down the sidewalk, keeping the lead, and I follow them, sometimes having to speed-walk to keep up with their pace of childish excitement. They run up the driveway to a little brick house. I wait at the base as the two friends ring the bell, get their candy, and run back down.

This pattern progresses as the sky grows darker and the girls' sacks grow heavier. Two hours later, I am holding onto two very tired girls' arms and leading them back to the Youngs' house. Both of their candy bags are easily slung over my shoulders. When I get back in the house and put the candy on the ground, both Claire and Zoe perk up. "Candy exchanging time!" Claire declares.

She and Zoe dump out their candy bags in front of them. "Ew, Laffy Taffy," Zoe complains, tossing a yellow-wrapped candy into an empty space in the center of the girls and their candy.

"Want my Twizzlers? I'll give them to you for your gummy hamburger," Claire offers.

"Deal," Zoe decides. She picks out a small wrapped brown thing and hands it to Claire. Claire fishes out a long red licorice stick and tosses it to Zoe.

I watch in amusement as the girls pore over their goodies and throw or trade away anything they don't want. I usually take the things that neither girl likes, like Laffy Taffies, Hot Tamales, and Charleston Chews. Zoe's parents come to get her around eight-thirty, and she takes an assortment of gummies, sours, and chocolate with her. The second the little girl is out the door, Claire slumps over and falls asleep in her candy. I laugh lightly as I scoop her into my arms, cradling her body close to mine, and carry her to bed.

i miss Halloween being a huge deal. don't you? i'm speaking out against ghostreaders again, though it's been much less of a problem. who ya gonna call? GHOSTREADER BUSTERS! haha that was a lame joke purely for my benefit. go read my stories/profile/TRY to vote in my poll (i say try because there's been somewhat of an issue voting in polls, i think it's a fanfiction thing). and of course, review!! lovelovelove, m