Halloween comes once a year,
It’s not getting a fright I fear,
But rather the awful chore,
Of knocking on strange people’s doors.
Missing a warm home’s shelter,
Battling swarms of Annas and Elsas,
My kid’s costumes barely worn,
Yet cheaply made, already torn.
And what’s more, what really sucks,
I’m down about 100 bucks,
But to complain is crappy,
When my children are so happy.
And it will all be dandy,
If when they divide the candy,
They’re careful to oversee,
That all the chocolate goes to me.