The "Hot Chocolate Incident"

Now that I have had a chance to come down off my Halloween sugar high, and more importantly slip into some roomier pants, I wanted to sit and elaborate a little more on the Halloween night that was. We have, in the past 2 years, served hot chocolate in front of our house on Halloween, as sort of a way to draw people to our home so that they can marvel at our well thought out costumes. But I think it is one of those ideas that you have one year, then you make it a "tradition". I think it is a full-fledged tradition now as people made comments like, "I'm so glad you have the cocoa this year", or "we saved your house until last just for this." or "despite my children being afraid of your pants and shirt combo, we came for the cocoa." It's wonderful. We are already planning what we will do next year.

As you can imagine, it's a little spendy to put enough hot chocolate to serve everyone that comes to the house, but we like the idea of making something different in our neighborhood. It's a little slice of Americana, creaking screen door kind of stuff, and Halloween is no exception. Sidewalks filled with moms and dads walking their kids around the block. So we enjoy being on a corner and having it be a little gathering place. We got 12 oz cups and put about a cup of hot cocoa in each cup. I bought about 160 cups, figuring that would be plenty. We bought 3 big Stephens Hot Cocoa mixes from Costco. Marshmallows as well. It was setting up to be a perfect night.

The reason I am going into such detail is to share with you this little tidbit that has become one of those, as the great philosopher C&C Music Factory once said, "Things that make you go hmmmmmm?"

Our beloved neighbors, who moved in about 3 months ago, hail from North Carolina. Actually the wife is originally from Morgan, Utah, her husband is from Wisconsin. Two daughters, one 10 and one 8. Bless their pea picking hearts, they are those neighbors who's kids just come on over any time they want, make themselves at home, just a little pushy, if you know what I mean. This is not all bad, except that they are girls, and our boys don't really like to play with them, does that make sense without sounding completely rude? I have probably offended you already, who ever has kids who don't like to play with someone, or neighbors who are a little pushy? I haven't given out any incriminating information to this point, unless I have mentioned my wife's name. Or all my kids names in the last post. Oh well, never mentioned my name.

ANYWAY!! Hit me if I am rambling, this will all tie in, I promise. So, the night is in full swing, my Star Studded Disco Themed Hot Cocoa and Candy booth is a big hit in the neighborhood. People are coming in large groups, small groups, singles, doubles, singles again. Our neighbor's youngest daughter and her grandmother, the father's mom, come over without costumes on and get in line for hot chocolate. No problems so far. I have had a couple of people come back and get some for their wife, ailing uncle, or brother just returning from Iraq, I am happy to spread the love to all corners of the town. All night people have been happily taking their cup of warm love, complete with marshmallows, and either standing around visiting, or on their way to the next house which is just giving out candy they bought. Pffft! Well, now to the meat of the story, after serving daughter and grandma, they happily drink it down and then return to the table with their cups out, as if wanting more......Wait, that's exactly what they wanted - MORE! One might think this is so trivial, come on Scrooge! Refills, refills, refills! Easy there, big fella. I have worked in the lunch room in elementary school enough to know that "Extra Desserts" for that someone special you are trying to impress just means "Extra Desserts" for every person behind her in line. Then you get in real trouble from Helga the German immigrant who runs the sweatshop turned elementary cafeteria. Nobody wants to get Helga mad. So, I hadn't been asked at all the whole night for refills, but it didn't surprise me. The Chocolate was good, like Iron Chef good. But I said to them, a little off to the side, "Oh, I am sorry. We're not giving out refills on the cocoa. We want to make sure we have enough." This seemed to settle in and they faded into the crowd.

So the masses continued to come. Ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and Britney Spears look alikes. About 15 to 20 minutes later as the crowd came rushing towards me, as I was passing out cups I noticed a familiar dynamic duo in the group. That's right, daughter and Grandma were back, trying their best to blend into the crowd. I didn't make a big deal, I handed a cup to each of them. I laughed to myself, thinking of how good the cocoa must be for them to come back for more. Then as I noticed the crowd thinning, two even more familiar faces were waiting behind the shadow of white Styrofoam. I pretended not to notice them. Then the daughter spoke to grandma, "But he said no refills." Grandma quickly corrected her, "Oh he'll give you a refill, you are his next door neighbor!" I turned around just as they sidled up to the bar, cups out, licking their lips, gazing wantonly at the crock-pot filled with liquid confection. "Oh, I'm sorry," I started in again, "we want to make sure we have enough so, still no refills. I gave you more just now anyway." Then Grandma lifted her wrist with her watch, pulling back her coat sleeve, said "Actually it's 8:00, I don't think you'll have any more people."

Why did this bother me? It shouldn't. BUT IT JUST DID. Ever had something like that, where you know it shouldn't bother you, you feel petty about it bothering you, you know it isn't charitable or neighborly, but it just steams your rice? And on Halloween no less.

"Well, we're still expecting more kids, so sorry." Defeated, they turned and walked back. The walked the long lonely road of loneliness. The whole 30 yards must have seemed like miles to them. Cold, thirsty. Thirsty, cold. What that 5th cup of cocoa would have done for them on the long journey home. This was another sticking point. People in the neighborhood had been traversing the countryside in the cold and dark night, you welcome them to your table, to bring their thermostat back to 98.7 degrees. But when these characters have thrown off their blankets, got up from the fireplace and walked 30 yards to continuously refill their hot cocoa cups, it's a little trying.

We did see more kids. About 30 of them. And then right at the end, in one of the last crowds, I noticed our neighbor's oldest daughter. I hadn't seen her all night. I thought she must have heard the buzz about our addictive drink and come to taste test for herself. I handed one over to her, and just as she turned and walked home, I noticed a faint silhouette in the distance. I knew that shape, it was the grandma, enlisting her toady to fetch her some chocolaty goodness. Amazing. Incredible. Wow. It's all I could do to not.....

As we cleaned up, my beautiful wife said to me, "The right thing to do is to take the rest of the hot chocolate over to them." I said, "Of course that's the right thing....Oh, you mean for us to do the right thing."

So we filled 4 cups and took them across the great divide to our neighbor's house. As I set a cup down to knock on the door, it slipped and spilled on their porch. The Mom, youngest daughter, and Grandma came to the door and this is how the conversations went:

Jodi: Hey, we brought you the last of the hot chocolate.
Brandon: Yea, sorry I just spilled some on the porch.

Mom: Oh, that's okay (taking the hot chocolate from us) someone spilled some earlier.

Jodi: Oh, we could use your hose and squirt it off.

Mom: Nah, I can squirt it off later.

Jodi: I have to tell you that your house number potting plant is so great! (Referring to a Martha Stewart-esque potting plant with their house number on it sitting on their front porch)

Mom: Oh, thanks, I got it out of _________ (insert Home and Garden Magazine name) So I can't really take credit.

Jodi: It's beautiful. Well, Happy Halloween!
Brandon: Goodnight!

We almost round the corner in front of their garage, when from the darkness behind the mom comes:

Grandma: Thanks for the hot cocoa.

This is something I really needed to get off my chest. I feel so much better now that the whole thing is out. I feel as if a burden has been lifted. Thank you. I feel at peace now. I wanted to take this little nugget of Americana and share it with all of you. You, who have seen me dressed in stretchy pants. You all understand. Maybe you can sympathize a little with me? As you are sitting there, hopefully nodding your heads as you look into your computer screen. I hope my undertones were not lost on you. They weren't lost on me. As I said earlier, we already know what we are going to do next year:

Charge for refills.