Although our garden is usually generous, this year it yielded only one pumpkin. Ah, but what a beauty that pumpkin was. We harvested it in early October; Sage promptly dubbed it “Mr. Pumpkin” and proceeded to give his new friend a face.
Mr. Pumpkin went through two initial incarnations: First as a cheerfully bald fellow, then sporting a new ‘do.
Tragedy struck when I exiled Mr. Pumpkin to our deck due to a rotten spot that was forming on his bottom. Alas, rain came in the night and washed Mr. Pumpkin’s face off. Sage was inconsolable, even when I pointed out that we still had markers and photos of the original Mr. Pumpkin. No good–Mr. Pumpkin would never be the same, and there was no getting around it.
So Mr. Pumpkin sat naked on the deck, waiting to be carved, with only a green gourd for company. But time passed, and so did Halloween, and the only hole in him was created by the ever-growing rotten spot.
When Sage’s friend Emery came over, I decided it was time for Mr. Pumpkin to go back to the earth from whence he came. After all, there’s nothing like wanton destruction to solidify a friendship. My plan was to have the kids smash the pumpkin and gourd in the chicken pen so that the birds might feast.
Phase one went well–the gourd was destroyed on site.
Mr. Pumpkin almost met his end there, too, but then Sage had a better idea: His dad had a leftover airbag detonator, which would create a perfectly spectacular end to the hapless squash.
So it was that Mr. Pumpkin perished in a magnificent explosion. At least it won’t take long for him to return to the earth.