Our friends stopped by at 7:30, and at 8 we headed off to campus, to the dorm that hosted trick or treating for the kids. Rowan was all decked out in her costume (photos to come, don't bug me--I'll get to it.) PK crawled around in his bee costume, allowing the hood to stay up due to the whipping wind. We walked from the parking lot, cutting through buildings, until we got to the dorm that was affiliated with Dr. B's college.
We started in the basement, and Rowan really didn't know what to make of it. She wouldn't carry her bucket, didn't want candy, and stared at the "crazy" guy in the straight jacket strapped to a chair, possibly considering climbing up in his lap for a story. At the end of the hall, she met a vampire lady, and clung to me, screaming and crying with her first official Halloween fright. (Earlier she had a similar reaction to the vacuum cleaner and a turtle puppet, so I'm not quite sure what it is she's scared of.)
By the second floor, though, she'd figured it out. She strutted from room to room, taking candy out of their bags and putting it in her bucket, which she'd heave over her shoulder as it got heavier. Due to a lack of nap time, she didn't offer a single smile or thank you, but many got kisses blown to them and bye-byes waved. She was a big hit with the girls, who kept calling her their "Candy Corn Cutie".
On the top floor, we met a group of young men who were in classes taught by Dr. B and Dr. K. They talked and joked with us, and we all commiserated over bad Halloween candy.
"Walmart candy--those bags of non-descript yuck!" "Circus peanuts." "Wax bottles." "Bit O' Honey!" And the good ones: Peanut butter cups, Skittles, and the houses that gave out the full sized bars.
"Wow. Interesting to know that bad candy is the same all the way from your generation to ours," said one boy.
I looked at him, puzzled. My generation?
And on the drive home, it dawned on me. This boy was likely born around the time I started college.
I am so old.
(But not too old to raid her stash. Don't tell her, OK?)