Yesterday, I watched as the children of the Selma – Dallas County area came out in droves to participate in the city’s annual Monster March.

The chilly air was thick with anticipation as the children lined up outside the Selma – Dallas County Public Library, eager to fill their plastic pumpkins with confections.

When Selma Fire Department Mascot Sparky arrived to lead the children on their pilgrimage through downtown, they followed readily, seemingly already riding a sugar high before the first piece of candy fell into their receptacles.

The children were akin to a horde of Vikings, pillaging each passer-outer and hastily moving on to the next, some so lost in their sugar-seeking state they could not even utter a courteous “trick-or-treat.”

As I watched the children delight in their spoils of the season, it got me thinking about the treats I’d find in my own plastic pumpkin at the end of a night of trick or treating when I was their age.

The Father, Son and Holy Ghost of Halloween candies, the trinity if you will, are, in my opinion, Reese’s Cups, Kit-Kats and Twix.

Theses treats are, of course, superior to all other Halloween treats for their various textures and flavors.

The Reese’s Cup is perfectly balanced, with its sweet milk chocolate and creamy, salty peanut butter.

The Kit Kat, as crisp as a fall day, is the perfect contrast to the aforementioned Reese’s.

And finally, the Twix, which is truly the perfect candy bar.

Each nuanced bite provides creamy chocolate, a crunchy cookie and chewy caramel that stretches out about a mile long, at least when you’re eight-years-old, from the rest of the candy bar.

For all of the candy bar coinsures out there, there’s a glaring omission from my Holy Trinity of treats – the Snickers.

The Snickers is omitted from my list, dear reader, because I’m not sure I ever ate one of the Snickers I received.

You see Snickers, my father’s favorite candy-bar, were always tested by him to determine whether or not there were razor blades, rat poison or amphetamines in my candy.

Once all the Snickers were gone and my candy was deemed safe for consumption, I’d gaze curiously at the fun-size wrappers on the kitchen table and wonder what a Snickers tasted like.

They’ve been described to me by people with less careful fathers than mine as a “Milky Way with peanuts.”