It was Halloween, and my mother, not one to buy costumes, had wrapped my entire body with toilet paper and a roll of masking tape.
She said that I was the Mummy and that I should go with the neighbors and get candy. I was not one to argue, and, at six years old, the word candy excited me.
Halfway to my neighbors it started pouring rain. By the time I got to the Holtzinger’s house, someone commented that I looked like a fat blob of wet Kleenex.
Nothing bothered me on Halloween though–not the cold wind, the rain, or being around the neighbors and their rough comments. The amounts of candy we received kept me in an elated mood.
I was happy, and the candy kept me going.