I got a rock.

Halloween is an interesting time of year. For 364 days out of the year, we tell our kids, strangers are bad. Don't talk to strangers. And for goodness sakes, don't take candy from strangers. Unless it's Halloween. Then, by all means, take their candy. And if they're doling out the full-size candy bars, go home, throw together another costume, go back and take more of their candy.

Last night, I paid my daughter for all of her chocolate candy. After dinner, she dumped out her bag of candy, separated her chocolates from her non-chocolates and presented me with a box filled with Snickers, Milky Ways, Kit Kats, Reese's Cups... pretty much the stuff of my childhood dreams. But she hates all of it. She hates - yes, hates - chocolate. While out trick or treating, she was very polite, dutifully saying thank you no matter what was dropped into her bucket. When she'd come back to me, she'd mutter in this dejected voice, "Chocolate." You would have thought she had just gotten a rock dropped into her bucket instead of bits of chocolatey deliciousness. At least promising her money for each piece of chocolate helped with her disappointment.

As luck would have it, one girl's rock is another girl's baking treasure. Last year I used her discarded Reese's cups for some pretty tasty Peanut Butter Cup Blondies (thanks to that blondie recipe I told you about before). I'm thinking of doing a mix this time around, sort of a candy bowl blondie. I'll let you know how it turns out.