Jack Stallard

Editor’s note: This column first published Oct. 23, 2021.

A couple of weeks ago, our semi-famous dogs (Sarge and Bentley), our adopted cats (Freeloader and Murphy) and the birds I feed on a daily basis all needed food.

As I pulled into the parking lot at the pet store, a lady walked in front of me on the way to her vehicle. I waited for her to cross, and then whipped into a parking spot.

I could tell she was angry when I stepped out of my truck, so I immediately apologized and explained I thought she was getting into a different vehicle and didn’t mean to drive as close to her as I did.

She smiled and said “Thanks for apologizing, because I was about to let you know what a jerk you are.”

I said, “Sometimes I’m a jerk, but not today. At least not intentionally.”

I think it’s important to say you’re sorry when you’re wrong — or a jerk — even if it wasn’t an intentional act. That said, and with Halloween arriving next week, I realize I’ve been a jerk about the holiday and want to beg for forgiveness.

For years, I’ve had some basic rules when it comes to scoring candy at my house.

Say “Trick or Treat” and “Thank you.” If you stick out your bag and say nothing, that’s what you’re getting. Nothing.

And, if I give you candy and you don’t say thanks within a couple of seconds, I’ll reach into your bag and remove what I gave you — plus a little more.

I don’t have an age limit, but if you are driving — especially if you’re alone — you’re probably too old.

No. You cannot have extra candy for your little brother, who is sick at home. Or the one who is doing homework. Or the one who is on a mission trip to Africa. I’ve heard (and used) all of these, so you’re not fooling anyone.

I mentioned these rules on Facebook last year, and while most folks who really know me thought it was a humorous post, I did have a couple of people call me out and ask me to reconsider a few of the rules.

I was quickly reminded that some kids are naturally shy or have other reasons for not wanting or not being able to communicate. They didn’t call me a jerk, so I’ll do it for them. Look up the word “jerk” in the dictionary, and you’ll see my picture.

In my defense, Halloween is an odd holiday.

Early on, we give our kids a list of rules we hope gets them through their teen years.

Don’t roam the streets after dark. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t eat too many sweets. Don’t pretend to be anything or anyone but who you really are.

Then, one night each year, we dress them up as some sort of superhero or critter, leave the house around dark, knock on the doors of people we don’t know and urge our child to beg for candy from total strangers.

I loved my time as a trick-or-treater back in the day, so I’ve decided to embrace it this year. And, in an effort to make up for being a jerk, I’m throwing away the rulebook.

If you come to my house, you’ll get candy as long as the candy supply lasts. No words need to be spoken, and I’ll even thank you for dropping by. That includes the adult who cared enough to spend quality time with the kiddos.

Want a little extra for a missing sibling? I’m a writer, so make it a good story and I’ll drop in an extra piece of candy. Hint: Being grounded is boring, but if your brother is out rescuing puppies and kittens from a life on the street or mowing the yard for an elderly neighbor “he” is getting some candy.

I only have one rule this year. Have fun.

You only get to do this once every 365 days and for just a few years of your life. It’s not like you can put on a mask and a wig and walk around the neighborhood begging for candy in March.

Please don’t ask me how I know that last part.