We had a big batch of trick-or-treaters show up at one time last night, about 9 kids age 12 and under.
“Who are you?” I asked the first kid.
“The Hulk.” I gave him some candy.
“Who are you?” I asked the second kid.
“Thor.” I gave him some candy.
“Who are you?” I asked the third kid.
“Obama.” He showed me a wadded-up Obama mask in his hand. I didn’t give him any candy.
“Put the mask on,” I said.
“I don’t want to. I can’t see.”
Meanwhile, the other kids kept coming to the front and announcing their costumes . . .
“Superman.” “Batgirl.” “Pink lady from Grease.” “I’m John Cena.” “Witch.” “Minnie.” They all got candy.
Finally no one was left but me and Obama.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Obama!”
“Put the mask on.”
“Come on!”
“You’re not doing your job. Geez, you’re as bad as the real Obama.”