Pumpkin Wishes

Every year at this time, I look forward to carving pumpkins.  I love planning out my design and, if I have the time, trying something new and challenging.  But as much as I love a good jack-o-lantern, I absolutely dread what leads up to it.

Two years ago, Graham wanted mouse toots.  I just don't know what they looks like.



Last year, Cael requested a snake to be carved out of a lumpy pumpkin, which seemed easy enough until I started carving and discovered that warty pumpkins are harder than stone, and probably stable enough to be used to construct the space shuttles.

So last night when I asked the boys to plan what they wanted me to carve tomorrow, my face had a smile but my fingers were crossed behind my back.

"Cael, what would you like on your pumpkin?"

"I don't know, Mom.  Whatever you want."

"Wait, you don't want to help me carve a cool pumpkin?"

"I don't care."

"Graham, do you want to pick out a pumpkin design?"

"Just make mine like Cael's."

"Okay, boys.  Should I just not carve pumpkins this year?  This is supposed to be a special and fun thing for the two of you."

The parent in me has to say this so that they understand the effort I am putting in on their behalf.  But the inner child in me knows that I'm going to carve the pumpkins regardless.  I just wish they cared a little more.

"No!"  "No, Mommy, carve them!"

"Well, what do you want them to look like then, Cael?"

"Okay.  I want a town.  No, no, a city.  With lots of skyscrapers and a helicopter watching the cars on the streets.  Make sure there are lots of cars.  And there should be a moon in the sky with some stars, and mountains in the background.  Or a volcano!  And can there be people in the buildings?  Like some of them are working at their jobs and some of them live in the buildings, so they are at home.  And some of them are sleeping in their beds.  Can you make beds?  Ooh, and they should all have pets, like cats and dogs.  Or maybe a rabbit.  Okay, Mom?"

This Halloween, be careful what you wish for.