It’s candy corn for everyone this year.
For the second year in a row, U.S. shoppers are seeing double-digit inflation in the candy aisle. Candy and gum prices are up an average of 13% this month compared to last October, more than double the 6% increase in all grocery prices, according to Datasembly, a retail price tracker. That’s on top of a 14% increase in candy and gum prices in October 2022.
“The price of candy has gotten to be outrageous,” said Jessica Weathers, a small business owner in Shiloh, Illinois. “It doesn’t make sense to me to spend $100 on candy.”
Weathers said she usually buys plenty of candy for trick-or-treaters and events at school and church. But this year, she only bought two bags and plans to turn off her porch light on Halloween when she runs out.
Other consumers are changing what they buy. Numerator, a market research firm, said its surveys show about one-third of U.S. consumers plan to trade down to value or store brands when buying candy for trick-or-treaters this year.
With the advent of inflation and shrinkflation, I rarely buy treats for myself, much less a day I don’t participate in. Heck, even things like crackers have gotten so pricy as to drive you to the store brand. It’s to the point where a treat is really a treat now.
Yesterday on a local community family Facebook site, questions were posed asking where the best neighborhoods would be located for trick or treating. Looking for neighborhoods where the houses are closer together and populated with young children. That was for West Bend – today Jackson has trick or treating, and same questions being asked.
These things have a way of building momentum to the point where significant numbers of people start doing it, (or are already doing that). People might figure that they cannot afford to or will not have the desire to become a “destination”. In the past, there was a tolerance for having your neighbor’s children include their school friends or cousins in making the rounds. But I think there will be less of a tolerance for having hordes of kids being dropped off to canvas your neighborhood. Perhaps at that point they will organize block parties for the neighborhood kids and dispense with the door to door thing.
That was starting to happen at our old house. We’d see a van pull up at the end of the street and drop off a bunch of kids. It was annoying, but I can’t put that on the kids. The teenagers with no costumes bothered me more.
We did the same thing. Growing up out in Kenosha county meant having few homes within walking distance and mom sure didn’t like us wandering country roads in the dark (T&T was always at night). We’d hit the nearby homes and then dad would drive us to gram and gramp’s house in the city. We’d get about four square blocks in before dad would call the game.
I agree, though, with Owen on the teen thing. 12 should be your last T&T. And no costume, no treat.
For grins, true story… no joke…
One year my dad was taking us – me, my two older sisters, and neighbor kid Ricky – to gramp’s but he started out the wrong way. “We gotta make a stop first,” he said. As we drove Cooper Road we started going by the spooky mystery house, a humungous home on 30 fenced acres, a big pond in front, and set back off the road 3-400 yards. Dad slowed, turned into its drive and through the gate. Us kids were surprised, excited, and a bit scared, too. The pond was rumored to have alligators in it.
We pulled up to the front entry, which was probably twice as high and half as wide as our entire house. The doors were as tall as our garage doors were wide. Dad had to goad us to go up and ring the doorbell. My oldest sister, Colleen, usually a never-timid gal, kinda snuck up to the doors and pushed the button.
The door cracked open and there stood an older lady with a huge smile on her face. Behind her sat two very very large Saint Bernards. We must have stood the with our mouths gaped. “Well?”, she asked. oh, yeah “TRICK OR TREAT!”.
She came out, asked our names, praised our costumes, called the giant dogs and let us pet them. Then she said, “I have to see tricks before I can give you treats.” So we all did something. I think I did hand stands (note: tried). After our performances she dumped three handfuls of goodies into each of our bags, said thank-you for coming and wished us happy candy hunting.
We were on her doorstep for probably twenty minutes or so. It wasn’t until many years later I came to realize that, because the house and property was the only one of its type in the entire area and it was seen by most as a no-go zone, she most likely was very happy to have us, or any other kids, show up at her door for halloween. I still remember her big silver bowl of candy was full to the top.
I grew up in the super-boonies where driveways were very long, very far apart, and only occasionally paved. We’d hit the nearest aunt’s subdivision at Halloween. Back then the best treats were homemade popcorn balls, or Carmel apples, or huge marshmallow Rice Krispie treats. Auntie’s elderly neighbor gave out silver dollars if she really liked your costume. Those days are long gone.
It was definitely not cool to trick or treat beyond 12 or so, but that was a peer pressure thing. The candy could never be worth the ridicule. Once you aged out the escort tax on your younger siblings was in full effect though. That’s likely how we learned to dislike taxes from a very young age.