It's a sad world when we suspect kids

In the midst of all the trick-or-treaters last night, a teenage boy knocked on the door and asked if he could use our bathroom.  I said of course and pointed to the bathroom.  After he left, we all realized we'd been suspicious.  We talked about how sad it was that we were all mentally wondering what he could steal from the bathroom.  (Nothing, basically.)   

How sad is that?  A world where we automatically suspect the worst of our kids!