“Worse. Than. Alcohol.” Madison sighed from the floor, clutching at her stomach.
“Somehow, I doubt that.” Samuel laughed, happily cooking their breakfast.
“No—I’ve decided it’s official. The candy hangover is worse than Alcohol.” Madison pulled herself up into a sitting position. “The sugar crash, the overly sweet taste that’s stuck in my mouth, the desire to never eat anything ever again. Besides, it’s so much harder to clean up candy wrappers than it is to clean up beer bottles.”
“So—your one candy for the trick or treaters, two candies for Madison plan?” Samuel asked.
“A bad plan. Definitely a bad plan. I will not be using that again next year.” Madison used the couch to get herself to her feet, and then sank down into her usual chair at the kitchen table.
“And when you try to use that plan again next you and I remind you of this conversation—you’ll casually inform me that it wasn’t that bad, and proceed to do the same thing all over again. And there is nothing I can do to stop you.” Daniel asked, sliding a plate of eggs in front of Madison.
Madison smiled, cutting a small piece of her egg and popping it into her mouth. “Well of course. It’s Halloween. What do you expect?”