Anyway, I get the history of Halloween and I understand the traditional fun of letting little kids dress up and knock on doors for trick-or-treat, but this macabre obsession with dark, evil things disturbs me. If I had my way, our front porch would be decorated nicely with pumpkins, cornstalks, a lovely wreath for the door. But no, Brad wants the whole kit and caboodle. He spent $250 on strobe lights, and skulls that talk, and battery-operated eyeballs that peak out of the bushes. The worst part is the mask that oozes blood. I will spend Halloween evening in my bed with a good book and the door closed.