Because I’m a miserable old witch I don’t make any preparations for Halloween.
So you can imagine my terror when the doorbell went earlier this evening and I was faced with several miniature ghouls. Thankfully, before I slammed the door in their faces I realised that they were the offspring of the neighbours over the road, so to avoid being banished from polite society, I was morally obliged to respond to their demands for treats in a positive manner.
A mental root through the cupboards revealed little that was going to interest a 7 year old ghost. I considered offering them a satsuma accompanied by a lecture on how they should be grateful that I was helping them to avoid the potential perils of type 2 diabetes, but thought that mightn’t go down too well. And then, like so many times in the past, my trusty friends the fruit pastille came to the rescue. While I consider them to be an essential diabetes treatment, apparently others view them as merely a tasty snack.
I provided said fruit pastilles to the phantom doorsteppers and was rewarded with a distinctly unfrightening “cool, fruit pastilles!” Thank you diabetes, I’d have been stuck without you tonight!