None for me, thanks . . .

Weeelllllll, some of us don't like being scared.  The ancient origin of All Hallows Eve gives me gollywobbles enough.  

I used to trick or treat when our country was young.  (Tells you, perhaps, how old I am?)  My kids used to be taken out seeking goodies when they were young.  My grandson was, too.  

Dressing up in order to collect candy has a childish aspect that is charming.  But, years ago, the boy who used to live next door to us was mugged by teenagers.  His candy-bag/pillowcase was taken leaving a shaken child with his trust in a friendly dark betrayed.  His parents thought he was old enough to go around his own block by himself.  He wasn't.

I don't like scary movies, either.  I had an uncle, way back in the day, who used to scratch at the open window to make us jump.  

I should have thrown water at him through the window screen.  I would do that, now.  I'd keep a glass at hand and feel armed and ready.  

It's all in the attitude.