Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: each year since 2008 I’ve kept statistics on the number of trick-or-treaters brave enough to approach our suburban Indianapolis doorstep during the Halloween celebration of neighborhood unity and no-strings-attached strangers with candy. I began tracking our numbers partly for future candy inventory purposes and partly out of curiosity, so now it’s a tradition for me. Like many bloggers I’m a stats fiend who thrives on taking head counts, even when we’re expecting discouraging results.

Previous years’ Halloween candy-receiver totals were as follows:

2008: 51
2009: 105
2010: 112
2011: 74
2012: 58
2013: 36
2014: 25
2015: 39
2016: 23
2017: 59
2018: 38
2019: 14
2020: 53
2021: 41
2022: 58
2023: 29
2024: 32
2025: 0

Last year was a onetime interruption for a very special Halloween wedding. We’re almost never invited to parties, so we don’t expect any further interruptions to our neighborly ritual until death do us part, and maybe not even then.

As usual, our city’s official trick-or-treating hours were 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. This year’s results:

First TOTer arrival time: 6:16 p.m.
Final TOTer departure time: 8:29 p.m.
Total number of trick-or-treaters for 2026: 86
Gain/loss from Halloween 2025: infinity%
Okay, so maybe instead, gain/loss from Halloween 2024: 168.8%

Same as we’ve been doing ever since the pandemic, Anne and I set up our yard-sale table out front, piled lots of baggies full of candies on one end, sat in lawn chairs on the other end, and greeted all comers together throughout the night, inviting them to take a baggie of their choice. It’s much easier than having to get up and answer the door at the sounds of endless knocks every three minutes. It’s our way of making the most of the one time of year when our neighbors will talk to us. Also, it’s fun pretending like we’re tabling at a comic-con, even though we aren’t selling anything.

A confluence of perfect conditions culminated in our biggest cosplayer turnout since 2010. It wasn’t a school night. Temps were in the 60s. Our ongoing autumn drought continued with nary a raindrop or snowflake in the air. (We’ve faced both in the past.) Parents were excited to uphold the classic traditions and share them with their kids. And now more than ever in this economy, everyone loves the prospect of freebies with no strings attached.

If only we weren’t a minority in our area. One parental couple lamented that most residents on our street were lights-out. They appreciated our presence and mentioned some grown-ups were planning to have a couple bonfire parties down the block later. We’re not used to being invited to things (even our families have cut back on gatherings, or at least they aren’t telling us about them), so our hearts may have swelled a size or two. We didn’t go, but still!

As always, MCC extends an extra-special salute to those stalwart winners who understood the true meaning of Halloween and weren’t afraid of fresh air. The cosplayers whose raiment we could discern (including some parents and chaperones!) registered as follows:

3 Ghostfaces, one of them pink
3 cows
2 Chases from Paw Patrol
2 witches
2 eye-covered things
2 Jurassic Park gamekeepers
2 twin non-IP chipmunks
2 rats
2 pumpkins
2 The Purge killers
2 harlequins
Fairy Kitty from Gabby’s Dollhouse
Jessie from Toy Story
Charmander
Spider-Man
The Mandalorian
Scooby-Doo
Freddy Krueger
Michael Jackson
Mike Wazowski
Mario
Snow White
Alvin the Chipmunk
Joker
black-and-white Spongebob
the Midsommar May Queen but in a hodgepodge suit
Reptar
Squid Game soldier
Raven from the Teen Titans
Batgirl
skull-faced Jedi
killer mime
inflatable alien
inflatable Grim Reaper
purple Stanley Mug
angel and devil (a teen couple who coordinated)
pirate queen
vampire
cowboy
pilot
baseball player
nurse
fairy
lion
giraffe
T-Rex
dinosaur
lemur
bee
ladybug
skeleton
prisoner
princess
clown

Early into our shift, we saw several groups of roving adults who were chaperoning just one or two youngsters — everyone in the family (grandparents included) wanting to witness their wee tyke enjoying the spirit of the season. Technically we should’ve shut down right at 8:00, but kids kept coming. Around that time, Anne’s best friend Leslie dropped by to say hi and told us she’d seen quite a bit of cul-de-sac gridlock from parents in SUVs all chauffeuring their kids around the neighborhood instead of walking with them.

By 8:15 things had finally slowed down, but we were too comfy — an aging couple out front in their lawn chairs, enjoying some evening air together. Just as we finally called it a night around 8:25 and began packing up, before I could turn off the porch light a large pickup truck with the word “PUNISHER” written gigantically across the side pulled around the bend, slowed to a stop, and unleashed upon us seven last teens out the tailgate. We didn’t mind — we had plenty of candy left and, y’know, we’re the Goldens. This is who we are and what we do.

Please enjoy a few bonus pics from our fall season. Lord willing, see you next year!