"The next time that you see a big bag of Skittles," I advised, "Grab it!"
Everyone nodded their heads, leading me to falsely believe that they understood my order and were willing to follow it.
At the next house, all three of my kids grabbed a handful of chocolate turds.
"No more Tootsie Rolls!" I begged once we reached the safety of the street. "Please!"
My kids' poor judgment was ruining my Halloween.
My husband told me that if I wanted a Mr. Goodbar that bad then I should go home and put on my Cleopatra costume.
After coming to terms with the fact that I was not going to be able to control myself, I told my husband that he would have to escort the trick-or-treaters to the front doors while I waited at the end of the driveways, telling myself over and over that what I don't know can't hurt me.