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This kind of reminds me of when my father took my brother and sister and me trick-or-treating back when I was about six years old. I remember it so clearly. We stopped at one house, where candy corn was being distributed. The woman who was giving it out was just about to put one in my bag when I pointed to it and said, “I don’t like that.” I was not being difficult; I was simply stating a fact, and I meant for her not to put it in my bag, and save it for another kid. Perhaps I did not say it elegantly enough – I was only six after all – but I remember my father grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the end of the driveway, snarling, “Why did you say that?” then without waiting for a response, hitting me several times until I wept. My happy halloween was ruined, but even worse, I was left in a state of terrible confusion. My parents had always told me to tell the truth. Yet here I was, telling the truth – and trying not to let perfectly good candy go to waste – and getting yelled at and punched for it. I remember how I stayed confused for many years after that.