Tricked

I love the custom of trick-or-treating. There's something positively weird about a ritual that has costumed children begging at doorsteps. Business was slow last night, as ever on our block: half a dozen calls, no more.

The cutest trick-or-treater was a lad of seven or eight who wore a dinosaur costume, complete with a fin on his head. His small-glasses-wearing hipster dad thanked us from the sidewalk.

The uncutest trick-or-treater: a 25-ish man, uncostumed except for an altogether menacing ski mask. He held open his pillowcase and said, "Trick or treat." He got a Kit Kat, just like everyone else.