In some neighborhoods, ruffians roam the roads around Halloween and Thanksgiving smashing pumpkins at will.
Not our neighborhood. In our neighborhood, pumpkins are left in blissful peace on front porches until they begin to rot, covered in mold and curling in upon themselves.
Our pumpkin experience this fall has gone from a sweet family outing to choose the perfect pumpkin to today, when I told Isaiah that the molding pumpkins had to disappear from our front porch before we hosted our Christmas party on Wednesday. Today is trash day and I gave him a gentle suggestion that the pumpkins find their way into the landfill.
At that point, his eyes lit up and his face broke open into a gleeful grin.
"Forget the trash! I want to shoot them!" he said enthusiastically. (In a female I might have called it a squeal of enthusiasm. But never would I ascribe such a squeaky noise to my manly man.)
Before I knew it he had a pumpkin hunting party assembled and was headed out to shoot the poor, plump orange symbols of fall.
It seemed a little mean. What had they ever done to him?!
I tweeted about his adventure and got several responses from men saying they thought that was awesome, a few responses from women who thought it was funny and one, lovely response that said, "I've never thought about doing that but now I'm strangely drawn to try it myself!"
We have lots of friends who like guns. And apparently don't like pumpkins.
Pumpkin pity does not abound in our family either and before too long Isaiah sent me pictures of the remains of the non-squash, non-gourd edible decorations.
(Sean's dog's giving it the once over to see if it's edible... though it's hard to see, the dog decided to go for it and ate a large mouthful. On a random note, and because what kind of update is this if I don't mention excrement?!, the veterinarian told me that if your dog is having trouble with stinky anal glands you can feed them pumpkin because it pluffs up their... ahem... output... and thus gets the glands emptied more effectively. I'm all about natural solutions - who isn't?)
As I looked at the pumpkin puree I realized… I was a little jealous. I wanted to shoot the pumpkins, too!
But, alas. I had to stay home with the sleeping baby. Boys get to have all the fun.
Since I don't have gunshots still ringing in my ears, however, I've been able to sing the background song from the 2010 Punkin Chunkin commercial all day.
"I like 'em big. I like 'em chunky…"
All the better to shoot you with, my pumpkin dear.
2 comments:
I think my mom still has some pumpkins left. What kind of gun did he use? Do you think a 22 would work? Our pumpkins also have the added benefit (?) of being frozen.
Baker recorded Punkin chuckin and has watched it many times. It must to a boy thing.
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