MARK MY WORD: ONE NIGHT OF HALLOWEEN CANDY LASTS A MONTH

Candy wrappers. I find them everywhere these days, telltale signs that Becca and Bailey have been eating more than their share of candy.

Halloween lasts only one night, but the candy they harvest in their costumes lasts for at least a month.

Becca and Bailey even have a big bowl filled to the brim with candy received during their trick-or-treat travels through a friend's sweet-toothed neighborhood.

I'm convinced that much of the candy of the free world was distributed within this one neighborhood. Becca and Bailey cornered at least part of the market.

Joni and I were amazed at how much candy a 7-year-old and a 3-year-old can collect when dressed as Queen Amidala and a black kitty cat.

Entire Third-World countries could survive for years on this stuff. The bowls seem as full as ever of candy even though our kids have done their best to eat the chocolate treats and other goodies.

I know they're eating candy because I find the wrappers on the living room floor or the kitchen table or scattered elsewhere in the house.

They compete for space with Bailey's pebbles, which we still find strewn throughout the house like the bread crumbs of a lost child.

Bailey would even take them with her to the bowling alley, if we would let her.

Bailey and Becca bowl in a children's league. Bailey's age group bowls on bumper lanes, eliminating those awful gutter balls.

Even so, bowling is an experience with a 3-year-old. Bailey prefers to throw the ball with both hands. She doesn't stick her fingers in the holes that were custom drilled to fit her left hand.

After throwing her purple ball, she sits down in the lane to watch the ball as it slowly makes its way toward the pins. More times than not, she knocks a few down.

But bowling can be a slow process with kids. At her age, it's easy to lose interest in the sport. You also have to allow time for snacks and several bathroom breaks.

By the time, she's bowled 10 frames, she's ready to move on to something else. The second game drags on. You'd think she was dragging a 100-pound ball midway through the second game.

She slowly inches forward, dropping the ball onto the lane. It rolls tiredly toward the other end. Eventually it gets there. Amazingly, a bunch of pins fall over despite the fact that Bailey's ball is barely moving when it reaches the end.

Like a ballerina, she turns and turns as I encourage her to move aside for the next bowler.

By this time, she'd rather be holding her "Buddy Bear" than a hard ball.

But at least there's no candy wrappers on the lane and no gooey chocolate on her bowling ball.

There's less hands-on requirements when it comes to Becca's bowling. The game moves at a faster pace, although even Becca had to chow down on some French fries at the bowling alley.

You just can't bowl on an empty stomach. It's clearly one of the major rules of the game. No doubt, the bowling alley appreciates all those empty stomachs in need of some nourishment.

Of course, when the games are over and our kids return home, they are certain to go looking for some Halloween candy.

For us, the goal is the same every year. We hope to dispose of all the candy before Christmas and an avalanche of more sweet treats hits our home.

Joni and I have been known to eat some of the candy ourselves in an effort to get to the bottom of the bowl. Still, there's only so much candy we can take.

In the end, some of the candy just has a way of disappearing. It's one of those parental magic tricks.

Even so, childhood remains a sticky situation, particularly when you're kids are caught up in candy land.

Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.