We were tired. Dead tired. (Which I found oh-so-appropriate since it was Halloween, after all...)
We took a three hour nap in the middle of the day, so sue us. We didn't realize how late it was until we heard a tiny fist knocking a tiny knock on our front door.
"Twick or tweat!"
I shot Gary a panicked look, and then the following conversation took place using only our eyes:
Gary: Don't. Move.
Me: Why is this happening?!? Our porch light is off!
Gary: It's only 5:30, so it's not dark yet...
Me: Who starts trick-or-treating at 5:30???
Gary: This kid, apparently.
Me: What do we do?!?
Gary: We're just gonna have to wait it out.
"Should I wing the doowbew?"
"TWICK OR TWEEEAT!!!"
Me: Gary! You know I'm powerless against little kids with rhotacism!
Gary: Hold yourself together woman!
Me: We could give them one of those Weight Watchers brownies...?
Gary: First of all, no. Second of all, I'm in my boxers and both my shotguns are visible from the front door. Trust me, we're doing that kid a favor by not opening the door.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the poor little kid gave up and tromped off our porch empty handed.
As soon as I was confident he wouldn't be able to see me, I ran over to Sarah's house to "borrow" some of their Halloween candy to ensure we wouldn't be ruining any more lives that night.
To make matters worse, we didn't get any more trick-or-treaters for at least an hour. Sarah even saw one kid walk past our house in costume, which of course sent me into a paranoid spiral of thoughts involving that poor little first kid running up and down the street telling all the other kids not to go to our house because a pair of "depwaved, candywess monstews" live there.
Eventually, we did get to see some cute kids in costumes...but as punishment for the crime we'd committed, we also had a few older kids show up in extra-disturbing clown masks. I sent them away with no candy and a firm kick in the trousers on principle. (Just kidding, but I did only give them each one piece of candy instead of the two I'd been giving everyone else for coming to my house and knowingly scaring the tar out of me.)
And that's the story of how we ruined some little boy's Halloween.
P.S. For those of you who are Facebook-fasting, here's how the ninja turtle costumes turned out: