One of the things I miss the most about childhood is trick-or-treating.
Every Halloween, I’d head out, grocery bag in hand (sometimes two grocery bags in hand), and make my way up as many streets as possible.
I trick-or-treated until I was 13. Yep, 13. I probably would have gone another year if my older sister hadn’t teased me incessantly.
I only missed one year that I remember. I was 12 that year, and I had just had my tonsils removed. But I still dressed up and passed out candy.