My favorite Halloween story

Like any other kids, on Halloween, Connie & I could. not. wait. to get out there and start trick-or-treating. We would practically INHALE our dinner so we could hit the streets. After dinner, Mom would stay home to answer the door for our own trick-or-treaters. Daddy would accompany us on our candy seeking mission. Ever the dutiful Dad, he would stand down on the sidewalk while Connie & I, clad as who knows what, would trudge up to the front doors and do our Trick or Treat spiel. These were the days, people, when we would just go and go and go. From neighborhood to neighborhood to neighborhood. Go home, dump the loot and head out again. Good times.

OK, on to my favorite Halloween story. (At this point, I am betting that Mom and Connie are already laughing out loud as they read this....if they even made it past the title.....)

So here we go....Daddy, Connie & me. Armed with orange plastic pumpkins. Seeking chocolate treasures.

We notice a little dog following us as we walk down the street. Fine with us. He's just trotting along. Not really bothering anybody or anything. Obviously having a fine canine Halloween evening. At this point, we are not even in our neighborhood. So we don't know whose dog it is. But whatever. We're in it for the candy. Dog's not bothering us.

Connie & I go up to a house and ring the doorbell.

(Seriously right now I am laughing so hard I can hardly type this....)

(I can remember this VIVIDLY)

(Sorry, I digress....)

A man opens the door.

Right when the man opened the door, this little dog suddenly RUNS IN THEIR HOUSE.

Impulsively, I CHASE HIM INTO THEIR HOUSE.

I am screaming, "IT'S NOT MY DOG! IT'S NOT MY DOG!"

The woman is at the kitchen sink washing dishes.

(OK, I just snorted out loud cause I am laughing so hard right this minute....)

And this little dog starts running around her kitchen.

Once again "IT'S NOT MY DOG! IT'S NOT MY DOG!"

We finally wrangle the dog and get out.

Maybe the hilarious shock of escapade has caused me not to remember the rest of the evening. Or even what we did when we got to the sidewalk. Or whatever happened to the dog. Or anything. I can't even tell you what my costume was. But I can still - 30 something years later - see that woman at the sink with a dog running around her kitchen. Vividly. Vividly people.

Here's hoping tomorrow you get lots of treats. And no tricks. And no stray dogs running around in your kitchen.