No one. No one came. For years. I thought it was something about my block that made it seem less than desirable to trick-or-treaters. So for years I had my porch lights on, the candy at the ready, the pumpkins on the porch, and still no one came!

So last night when I was running around making dinner, it occurred to me that I hadn't really even gotten around to buying a bag of candy. In fact, due to the fact that we've all been trying to be to eat a little bit more healthfully of late, I didn't have anything sweet in the house at all! I was just thinking about that when lo and behold...I heard it.

The dreaded sound of a doorbell on Halloween when you got nuthin' to give. The adrenaline started flowing through me and, I'm not kidding, I actually started to have a panic attack, palpitations and everything. I rooted around the kitchen and in the cupboards frantically trying to find something--anything--to give to these probably-adorable children hungrily waiting outside with their cute little Halloween bags raised over their heads.

"Judi!", I said to myself, "there is nothing! You know there is nothing!" So I did what any other nervous guilty anxiety ridden mother-hubbard-there's-nothing in-the-cupboard housewife would do: I hid.

When I say I hid, I don't mean I just didn't come to the door. I mean I actually crouched down low behind the island in my kitchen and froze for five solid minutes. It was something out of "Curb your Enthusiasm," as most of my life is. This morning I went to the grocery store and bought five bags of on/sale Halloween candy and stuck it in my freezer in case this happens to me next year.

And while I admit, giving year-old Milky Ways from the freezer is pretty lame, so is crouching in your kitchen like a soldier in a foxhole.

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