Pumpkin Smashing
There is just a small problem when the pumpkin carving party is a full week before Halloween.
Even with all my efforts to preserve (or pickle in vinegar) the pumpkins, the laws of nature dictate that they will mold long before Halloween.
By Saturday, Ane had told us that she was fine with tossing her pumpkin. I knew Tad would probably not be, so I waited.
By Sunday after church, the World War I Flying Ace was now quite soggy and growing black fuzz, Hello Kitty’s broom had turned black, and Batman was growing some kind of white mustache.
“We have to throw the pumpkins out,” I told Tad. I had both the boys with me, because the Webmaster had driven to church separately (and early) to run sound, and had taken Ane with him. Rerun went down for his nap, and I marched outside with his pumpkin and tossed it in the yard waste bin. It made quite a satisfying splat sound, and was quite smashed.
Tad followed me out as I carried Hello Kitty pumpkin, and poked his head in to see the remains of the first pumpkin. His eyes lit up. “Can I do that?” he asked eagerly.
He helped me shove Hello Kitty in, and then he carried his own Batman pumpkin out to the yard waste bin. I lifted the lid and he heaved it in with a huge smile on his face.
He is such a boy.
When I told Grandma the story, he said, “Oh, he’s his uncle’s nephew!”
In a moment I was apparently not around for, the Major once smashed a pumpkin against the play structure in our backyard (the Ewok Village), and hurt his hand or arm in the process. Tad didn’t hurt himself tossing his pumpkin, but apparently the need to smash a pumpkin is genetic.
Fittingly, today is the Major’s birthday. Happy birthday, and I hope you still have power at your house!
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October 30th, 2012 05:50
Mom gave the Major a spoiled pumpkin to toss in the compost pile. As he left the house he said “I’m going to have fun with this!” When he threw the pumpkin against the Ewok Village a weak, rotted slat broke and flung back at him. The slat’s nail stuck him in his bicep. He didn’t even notice this until he was walking back to the house and felt the slat swinging off his arm. Mom cleaned his wound and called it good, no tetanus shot. I don’t think it’s damaged him. 😉
November 1st, 2012 12:03
Two minor corrections to this account. I cannot confirm nor deny the statement in quotations; I simply do not remember. Second, the nail stuck in my tricep near my elbow as I lifted my arm to cover my face (still have the scar to prove it)