Trick or Treat

“Come on, hurry up!” I yelled to my five year old brothers. “If we don’t get a move on, all the good candy will be gone, and you’ll be stuck with the apples Mrs. Stagg gives out every year!”

“I can’t find my red underwear!” Jason cried.

“Nobody cares what color underwear you wear,” said his twin brother, Jack. “Besides, why are you even going as Santa Claus? It’s Halloween, not Christmas!”

“Because you’re Jack, and you’re going as a skeleton,” said Jason, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And why wouldn’t Santa wear red underwear? Everything else he wears is red, and I want to be authentic.”

I had to put a hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter. Through suppressed snorts, I called out, “He also wears black boots and a black belt, and he has white trim on his suit. Not everything has to be red. Maybe it’s green? That’s a Christmas-y color!”

I heard an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have any green underwear!” he said.

“Just put something on, Sandy Claws,” I said, chuckling at my own wit.

“See?” said Jason triumphantly, presumably to Jack. “She gets it!”

Jack, of course, had no idea why it was so funny, nor did he realize the coincidence of him choosing to be a skeleton with his name being Jack.

Ten minutes later, we were finally out the door, with Jack as a skeleton, Jason as Santa Claus (complete with white boxers and red polka-dots), and me as their babysitter (not a costume; parents on a date).

We went from house to house down the street, but most of them were already out of candy. Jason ran across the street, just ahead of a car that was passing.

“Be careful!” shouted Jack, holding my hand as he looked both ways before we crossed.

Jason shook his head. “You’re so gutless sometimes,” he said to his brother, and I smacked him lightly on the head. He glared, but didn’t say anything.

We went up the street, passing the houses as one by one, their decorations and lights turned off. Soon, there was only one light still on. I scowled at Jason as he adjusted the pillow tucked under his red jacket and hoisted his bucket. “Santa Claus’ underwear,” I muttered under my breath as we trudged over to Mrs. Stagg’s house.

---

Special thanks to Beth Egmon and Robert Gamboa for this week's submissions. Their jokes were, respectively:

Knock knock. Who's there? Santa Claus. Santa Claus who? Santa Claus' underwear!

and

Why didn't the skeleton cross the road? Because he didn't have the guts!

For next week, we'll try a little fan-fiction. Submit your two favorite characters from any book, movie, or TV show. They do not have to be from the same one.