LMAO... I only knew 2.5 groups of teens who stole all the candy... seriously abused and half starving kids who also break into the candy machines at school for their food for the day; and the wanna-be rebels who do it at like, one house (the adrenaline making them half deaf, heart hammering in their ears) as they <gasp!> break the rules... aaaaaaaand feel so terrible about it they sneak candy into their siblings buckets and give it away at school to friends, for weeks.
So I figure both go to a good cause.
((.5 = their friends who haven’t grown spines, yet, and just follow along blindly ;) Less a good cause there, but c’est la vie. Someday maybe their balls will drop.))
But I grew up listening to my grandfather bitch/moan/complain that “Kids today! Have no GUMPTION! We used to move the outhouse or soak the mattresses of houses that didn’t have candy!!! It’s called TRICK or treat... not ring the bell shrug and move on. Where’s the spirit?!? Where’s the moxie?!? I wanna see some passion in today’s youth!!!” ...hilarious... him waving his fist about and chewing people out for NOT lighting his house on fire (I’m not sure what the modern equivalence is for someone falling into a 12’ pit filled with piss & shit? But I’m thinking arson comes close???), but it’s also something that’s stuck a bit.
I looooooooove

this holiday. So much. For so many reasons. My (very stately, surgeon, leader of men, & original feminist) grandfather waving his arms in the air demanding to be “pranked” just one of many. Every year, aaaaaall he wanted was to wake up and find the car in the swimming pool. He’d have paid for that kids University degree, on the spot. Sadly, he found my generation rather lacking in chutzpah.
^^^
But maybe my grandfather can lend a happy note to your empty candy bucket? I remember how EXCITED I would get as a kid to DASH to the next house, and the next and the next... because! They might be OUT!!! Hurry! We have to beat the candy pirates! (It never occurred to me, as a kid, it was ONE kid just emptying the bowl into their bag. I was a pretty sheltered kid, in a lot of ways. I just figured we weren’t taking our marauding seriously enough & needed to buckle down). An empty candy bowl? WASNT a reason to be sad. It was notice the end of the night was nigh, and we’d better move it before it was over.
<cough> I didn’t have enough moxie by my grandfather’s standards (even if everyone else disagreed and wanted me to Settle. The. f*ck. Down. Already!) to prank the houses that were out... but I sure had some wild exhilaration & serious determination to make the most of the night. Whatever was left of it. To the last foil wrapped treasure.