From birth to age 8, our house was the house. Not because we had outrageous decorations; my mom had enough to do and inflatable jack-o-laterns were ‘tacky’. We didn’t have the best candy either, usually typical Reese’s Cups or Kit Kat bars. So why was our threshold bombarded every year with adolescent greed? It was what came with the candy that brought the hoards of neighborhood kids for reasons not known to any of their parents. Kids just had to have Dr. Spennato’s toothbrushes.

My parents bought their first house when my sister a few months old after living in a string of apartments and townhouses their first few years of marriage. As a new mother and first time homeowner, Halloween was the last thing on my mom’s mind mind. My dad was working long hours, so my mom didn’t expect he would even be home by the time trick or treaters came. With the baby asleep, she gave out brightly wrapped chocolate products, waiting for familiar headlights amongst the swarms. When my dad finally arrived, he threw her a bag of toothbrushes and yelled, “You have to give

If you know my dad, he is the opposite image of a typical dentist. He is 6’5” and has a “pull my finger” quirkiness that can only be described of that of a nine year old boy. He gave out toothbrushes not to promote his profession, or generate buzz for his newly opened practice. He didn’t care if the kids complained and asked for a bigger Twix instead. He gave out toothbrushes, simply because he thought it was funny.

And apparently, so did the kids.

For the next decade, kids lined in hoards at my front door, waiting for their whale shaped, colorful toothbrush and Reese’s Cup. We eventually moved to a new neighborhood, but the kids found us. They came in armies, asking for toothbrushes when my mom handed them Snickers. She was fed up. No matter how much my mom tried to hide, the kids found her. They demanded their toothbrushes, and it was all my dad’s fault. How could her devoted husband bring the young to the gates, only to run off trick or treating?

Eventually, she found her escape. We moved out of our bustling Toll Brothers neighborhood to a secluded farmhouse where the neighbors were a half mile away. Finally, she had found her peace. No more demanding pricks asking for toothbrushes. Two years went by before we had a single trick or treater.

It was a good decade–happily put on a shelf for nostalgic indulgence at a later time–but never again did another kid ask for a toothbrush on Halloween.