In addition to the five we had glowing on our porch last night, M and I each added our personal touch: his freaky owl picture hung above a sound machine that emanated an ominous beating heart; candles burned atop my Day of the Dead altar.
We took turns answering the doorbell and delighting in all the trick-or-treaters--the big-eyed toddlers who haven't a clue, the shy five year-olds clinging to their parents' legs, the ecstatic packs of pre-pubescent girls, the awkward adolescent boys with their giant pillowcases and embarrassed grins, and my favorite, the old man dressed like Obi-Wan Kenobi.
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