The Lost Art of TPing a House

Now that Halloween has departed for another year, leaving behind empty candy bowls and children suffering from sugar-related constitutional disorders, I have a few words of advice for parents whose offspring engage in the ancient and honorable art of toilet-papering their neighbors' homes.

First, let us establish that toilet paper must actually reach the house. Throwing it into the grass is not decorating; it is littering with ambition.

I should not have to discover entire rolls lying in my yard, either. A whole roll represents a magnificent opportunity squandered by somebody who apparently believes Halloween is a warehouse liquidation sale.

Second, speed is essential. I caught some of you in the act, and I must say, the operation moved with all the urgency of Congress considering a pay raise.

Parents, conduct drills! Teach your young apprentices to work quickly.

In, out, and gone. This is not a committee meeting.

Third, bring something to distract the dogs. Those animals have no appreciation for the traditions of their ancestors and will bark at a perfectly respectable Halloween operation as though the President himself had arrived unannounced.

I offer these suggestions not as a complaint, but as a concerned citizen and a guardian of cultural heritage. There was a time when a properly papered house was a neighborhood landmark, a testament to youthful ingenuity and questionable judgment.

We must not allow this noble tradition to perish through poor training. After all, civilization is built upon traditions, and some of them require toilet paper.