Sometimes…kids with puppy dog eyes ask in sugary voices if we can carve our pumpkin.
Our pumpkin. Singular.
And they blink a lot.
Then they up the ante’ and clear dinner plates without being asked. At which time my husband and I shrug and add, “ah, why not?” Though we can think of a few reasons–sensible ones. Like… Five year old. Boy. With a knife.
Then since there’s something ridiculous about four people hovering over one pumpkin, we divvy the squash and zucchini, too.
And we contemplate the first cut.
This may be the most exciting pumpkin we’ve ever carved.
Only it needs a face.
A fresh design.
Like something with four teeth.
At which time our son becomes the overseer of the pumpkin project.
Reminder-er of the original goal.
Final hair touches.
Until he’s got what he hoped for…
A little happiness in his hands…
and a little light in the kitchen.