The funniest part of Charlie's Edward Scissorhands costume was watching him struggle to grab treats out of candy bowls with his useless scissor hands while trick-or-treating. It was like watching a child use chopsticks. Eventually he had to ask the homeowner to just drop it in his bag for him.

Some called this cruel. Especially when he dropped a Kit-Kat on a neighbor's front porch and then clawed away at it unsuccessfully for 45 seconds like a crab while we watched and giggled from the sidewalk.

Five years ago, Charlie lagged behind his big sister, the toilet paper from his makeshift mummy costume coming undone. Looking back now at the photos, we should have known sooner. He looked pale and sickly. Still he shuffled along and sucked on a grape lollypop with his pancreas failing and his blood sugar soaring. And we didn't know it. We would two weeks later.

We came home with quite a loot of candy on Friday night as we covered a lot of ground in our small borough. It was a lot of walking and Charlie had one low blood sugar of 66 midway through trick or treating. Luckily, we had about 75 sugary options to choose from.

Sorting the Candy

First, we took all of the non-chocolate candies such as Skittles, Starbursts, Nerds and such and threw them right in the garbage (aka my mouth). Then we gave the kids the option to sell us a portion of their candy. They locked in at a very good rate of 15 cents per candy, netting $10 each to spend at their leisure. All parties left the bargaining table feeling as if they'd won.

I don't think it's cruel to give a child with diabetes scissor hands that hinder his ability to pick up candy. I call it ingenious.

We have some even better ideas for Charlie's costume next year to limit candy consumption.

(she has no mouth)