R3

Guts.

It's mid-October. It's about the time to visit a pumpkin patch and find a special pumpkin that catches your eye to take home only to destroy it with a carving knife in an honest attempt to display your creativity. My childhood memory of carving pumpkins is very vivid. It went like this.

Mom would buy the pumkins (usually at the grocery store) and the number of pumpkins she bought varied every year depending on how "cool" my sisters were that particular year and if they were going to be a part of the famiy pumpkin carving activity. I was always excited to carve my pumpkin and I would internally stress for days about what I was going to do on my pumpkin. The night would come for the activity to take place. Dad would tell us to get the stuff ready. Mom and I would work together like we were on a scavanger hunt, finding the exact objects needed. The scavenger hunt list: 8-10 sheets of old macomb daily, 2-3 big silver spoons (this number again dependent on my sisters' participation or lack there of), the special pumpkin carving knife, the even more special big green pumpkin guts bowl, and some sort of writing utensil always found in the cabinet under the phone. Once the items were gathered, I could finally begin to carve my pumpkin.

Me: Dad, can you cut the top off for me?

Dad cuts off top to reveal pumkin guts. Pumpkin gut smell fills the air. I begin to get nauseous.

Dad: Go aheah, Short, clean it out.

Me: Um, what if you guys do it, I dont really like the smell.

Sister(if they are there): Plug your nose! You're the one that wanted to do this.

I plug my nose and stick my hand in the pumpkin guts. I almost throw up.

Me: Mom, I can't. I HATE the way it feels!!

Mom and Dad clean out the pumpkin and fill big green bowl with pumkin guts. Once pumpkin is clean Mom takes big green bowl away because I am spoiled and she knows its making me sick.

Dad: Ok, short, its all yours. Draw your design on the pumpkin and I will help you cut it out.

I sit there for a few minutes with writing utensil in hand, maybe scribble on the sports section of the Macomb Daily that is covering the table, and eventually look up at mom with the look.

Me: Mom, could you draw the face on my pumpkin? I'm don't know what to draw.

Mom: Shorty, this is your pumpkin. You are supposed to be doing this.

Mom takes utensil and draws a perfect face on my pumpkin, admiring it afterwards but still saying...

Mom: How does that look? I didnt do anything special that you couldnt have done.

Me: Thanks Mom! Dad, where's the knife? I'm ready to cut!

Dad: You know you can't cut by yourself. Let me see the pumpkin.

Dad cuts out the drawing that mom drew on the pumpkin they cleaned out.

Me: I love it! I think this year's might be my best pumpkin yet!

Today Josh bought Palmer his own stuffed pumpkin at Petco. Looks like Palmer didn't mind goin after the guts at all.

# posted by Rachelle @ 6:02 PM