Pumpkins, in general, when they are sitting out in a tranquil field, hundreds of miles from our house, are fine. Pumpkins, sitting in our house, waiting to be carved, are the Worst Things Ever.
Neither my wife nor I are fans of carving pumpkins, but, when you have a 2- and a 3-year-old in your house, and there are pumpkins on the premises, they need to be carved. If it were up to me, I would just give the kids my handheld jigsaw and let them go at it. But, even though I promise my wife that I would go over the finer points of saw safety with the kids first, she always says no.
|This is NOT any of my children. Whoever took this photo has way too much time on their hands. I do not have that much time, so I stole it off the internet. From fatgirlkitchen.typepad.com|
So, Mommy and Daddy do the carving. Actually, the carving isn't so bad, other than the fact that we can never decide on a good design, so every pumpkin in our house ends up with the same generic jaggled-tooth grin. It's the digging out of the excrement that really stinks. Those pumpkin innards are the worst. The only thing that makes it even remotely tolerable is the fact that my wife, the Saint, digs through all the goo to get at the seeds, and then roasts them until they are deliciously crispy and crunchy. And then, being the good husband and father that I am, I pretty much eat them all myself. Did I mention that pumpkin seeds are delicious? Maybe carving pumpkins isn't so bad, after all....nah, now that I think about it, it's still terrible!