All characters belong to Janet.

I was in heaven. I was sitting cuddled under a warm, soft blanket next to my favorite guy with a large bowl of candy and wrapped cookies on my lap on my favorite day of the year. Life was good if I didn't think about the idiot skips I'd had to wrangle this morning.

"Trick or treat," called a boy of maybe ten years as he ascended the steps of my childhood home dressed as the grim reaper.

Ranger reached into the bowl of candy on my lap and handed the kid a handful of fun size bars and I dropped one of the wrapped cookies my mom had made into his bucket.

With thanks, he ran off before we were barraged by a gaggle of girls dressed as princesses and Barbie.

As the girls giggled and headed their way leaving us alone once again. I sighed and leaned into Ranger.

"You know you're giving out the wrong candy, right? You're supposed to give out the dots, followed by these hard candy things, and then the chocolate," I instructed with a grin.

"Babe."

"Ranger, it's the rule. You don't want to be left the gummy stuff. We want the chocolate. Didn't you ever hand out candy before?"

"No. It is part of the rule that you have to eat one for every one you give away as well?"

"Yes," I said indignantly, "and you could help. That's a lot of candy for one person to eat."

I felt the rumble of laughter in his chest before he kissed my temple. "You're my designated candy eater, Babe. So, explain what happened to your grandma and why it was so important that we had to hand out candy tonight at your parents."

"Well, I didn't get the whole story since it was my dad that called, but it seems that my grandma was coming downstairs in Gogo boots that were apparently part of her Halloween costume and tripped over a scarf or something and fell down the last couple of steps. She assured everyone she was fine but mom insisted that she had to go to the hospital to be checked out. Dad had to drive."

"And we have to hand out candy, because?"

"Because they don't want to be the house that didn't hand out candy and mom had specially made cookies to hand out this year as well. She couldn't be left with dozens of extra cookies."

"Of course not."

A couple of teenage boys ran up to the house. "Do you have any of the cookies left?" the boy dressed as a ninja asked.

"Sure, here. Want some candy, too?"

"Yeah, thanks," he replied before the two boys disappeared back into the night.

Over the next half hour, we continued to give out candy and cookies. I continued to sit cuddled into Ranger's side. He was my own personal heater on the chilly night.

"Lots of kids keep asking for the cookies. Is that normal?" Ranger asked.

"Mom doesn't always give out cookies, but maybe these are especially good?" I conjectured. "Personally I always hated the homemade stuff at Halloween. It could be hit or miss. I'd rather have the candy."

"Noted."

The night was getting darker and the little kids had thinned out leaving mostly the middle school and high school kids on the street. The cookies seemed to be a hit.

After the tenth request or so, I decided it was time to try one of these cookies. Ranger watched me closely in the dark of the porch lit only by a few jack-o-lanterns.

"I don't know. It's a sugar cookie with nut on top. It's not even as good as her chocolate chip cookies. I don't get it. Want a bite?"

"I'll take your word for it, Babe. I'm not a connoisseur. You are my expert on sweets," he said, giving me a kiss.

The trick-or-treaters gradually died down. I'd received a text from my grandma telling me they were headed back, so Ranger and I sat cuddled under the blanket awaiting their return and a debrief of the hospital visit.

Rangers hands may have been under my sweater when my dad turned into the driveway.

Soon, my parents and grandma were headed up the walk. Grandma was dressed in a short, psychedelic minidress with a long scarf belt around her waist and white Gogo boots. Her arm was in a sling.

"Grandma, are you okay?" I asked standing up from my spot on the porch bench.

"I'm great. Just a small sprain to the wrist, but I won the ER costume contest," she stated beaming as she held up a small plastic trophy. I laughed and opened the door for her.

Ranger followed my parents and I into the house bringing in the remaining candy and cookies as well as the blanket.

"Oh, I'm so glad you didn't run out," my mom said. I can't imagine the horror of a burg housewife running out of Halloween treats!

"It died down in just the last half hour or so," I offered.

Grandma was grinning. "Any cookies left," she asked.

"A few. There was a run on them. A number of kids came up specifically asking for them as if they'd heard all about them."

Grandma looked at my mom with a huge grin. She turned to me and asked, "which kids were asking?"

"Mostly teenage boys. Why?"

She turned to my mom. "Told you so!"

Ranger, my dad, and I looked at each other confused. We had no idea what was going on.

"I told you they were eyeballs!" my mom demanded.

"I think the teenage boys have voted!" Grandma responded.

"They just liked the cookies," she retorted.

"Yeah, right!" Grandma responded.

"What are the two of you talking about?" my father asked, finally breaking into the conversation.

"Helen made titty cookies," Grandma responded. I looked at my mom, who was shaking her head. I couldn't look at my dad. Ranger was hiding behind his blank face but I could see the cracks in the facade.

"Titty cookies?" I asked.

"She says they are supposed to be eyeballs, but I told her that's not what they look like," Grandma said.

My dad was speechless. Ranger remained behind his blank face. My mom was shaking her head furiously.

I walked over to the bowl of cookies wrapped in plastic bags printed with Halloween characters and opened a cookie.

I rolled it over in my hand and was speechless. My dad turned bright red. Ranger turned and walked out the front door without a word.

"Mom," I said quietly before handing her the hemispherical cookie with a dark center circle and a small pecan stuck in the center.

If I squinted, I could see where the intent of an eyeball might have been, but I could never unsee the boob with a perky nipple.

I walked out the front door to the sound of my grandmother cackling to find Ranger leaning against his Porsche laughing quietly but hysterically to himself.

"Babe. You were handing out titty cookies," he said, trying to get himself back under control.

"Don't babe me. You were an accomplice!"