Books read, late October

( like it says on the label )

The ineffable strangeness of grown-ups.

We got 20 trick-or-treaters last night, all polite and in costume, which is about what we expect here. (The stairs, they are daunting.) But what we got a record number of was 2-year-olds unclear on the concept. There were at least five of them who were fairly sure that they were supposed to come inside and had to be fetched back by their fathers.

And it was pretty clear from their confusion that this holiday was not making itself understood, but their ideas were: Look, Dad. There is this smiling lady with candy. She has a warm, well-lit house. She has a doggy. And you want me to turn around and go back down all those steps in the cold and dark? What kind of a deal is this? Who made this up? I know how this works, Dad: how this works is I go inside where there is a smiling lady and a doggy and candy. That is my kind of holiday at 2. Sheesh. Big people are so weird.