Boys Will Be Boys

On the morning after Halloween, the boys and I were sorting out their loot. We were separating to good from the so called "bad" and attempting to trade the bad for good; candy that is, sometimes sweet, sometimes sour. I was holding on to some loot of my own left over from the night before. As usual, we had bought way too much candy, and I was forced to consume the extras when suddenly there came a knock at the door.

It was old Mr. Winnington from down the street and he was shaking his fists at me frantically. He was talking so fast that I could hardly make out a word he was saying; but this I understood, it was my boys who had toilet papered his house. Mr. Winnington lived a good distance, nearly one hundred yards or so. Yet his house was close enough to see the damage: streamers of yellow, pink, and blue were cascading through his trees. I asked him if he would like my boys to clean up the mess, but he just told me that they had better never lay foot on his property again.

Closing the door, I turned scolded the boys for such a senseless deed. I asked them why they had done such a terrible thing, but their only defense was that Mr. Winnington had failed to participate in handing out candy and that it was their duty to see to it that he did next year. You know---"trick or treat." Disappointed in their answer, I took their candy away from them and sent them to their room to think about what they had done. "Boys will be boys" I heard my grandmother say somewhere in the back of my mind. And then, remembering a time and a place not so long ago and not so far away, I sat back in my chair and began to relax and then slowly drifted away.