Believe it or not, this is the first year I’ve ever carved pumpkins with my kids. Shock! Dismay! Outrage! Oh for shame, but it’s true. The guts are just so…icky. The knife is just so…sharp. The Ladies are just so…impatient. The mess just grows so…big.
This year, I put all of that aside, whipped out the dollar-store table cloth to cover the kitchen floor and got my girlies to sit down with their pumpkins. For THIS. This piece of yummy goodness that I shall cherish forevermore because ZOMG-the-cute-I-dieeeeeee!
Every year we choose pumpkins that represent ourselves. Each person gets to decide what that means. This year it was based on ages: Mom & Dad get the biggest one, next was Bella, followed by Nika, Maë got the smallest. In truth, Maë wanted about 4 different pumpkins so we got all of them. And perhaps most telling of all, she’s the only one that chose the yellowy coloured one. An oddball for sure.
A strange turn of events, my super-scaredy-fraidy-cat Isabella wanted a scary face on her pumpkin, though she had no interest in checking out online versions. She knew Dad would come up with something great. Nik? She wanted a happy face and was more than thrilled to check out Pinterest with me to find the best, most-happiest-guy ever face. Maëlle got suckered into a letter ‘m’ because Mommy needs at least one initial a year. Sorry kid, learn to speak up. Heh. Mom & Dad got the sad face- mostly because the Ladies wanted the gammut of emotions. And oh the fun, the fun! While Belle bravely pulled out guts & seeds & mush from the inside of her pumpkin…Maë was happily stealing them from the bowl and shoving them directly into her own little pumpkin.
And Mommy was kindly instructed to cool it with the round edges.
And then end result? Met with squees of excitement, some clever thinking by Dad and a front porch we loved to share with the neighbourhood.