Scoop the Goop

Pumpkin guts used to intimidate me, before I had children. The cold goo, the chunky soft pumpkin “meat”, and the slippery seeds seemed like a rather gross barrier between me and my jack-o-lantern.

Then the kids were born in rapid-fire fashion and goo became a part of life. Goo is a daily occurance.

Yesterday we carved five pumpkins for the kids and I was excited to go elbow-deep, scooping the goop, squishing the stringy seeds and pulp in my fists. It was fun! But the kids, especially the boys, were disgusted by the process and eventually slunk away from the table, leaving Lee and I to do the bulk of the pumpkin gutting and carving.

It is ironic–they will think nothing of pulling gum off the underside of a restaurant table and chewing it. They will happily splash in toilet water, smear Vaseline through their hair, sample Alpo, eat boogers, and take off a full diaper and “decorate” a crib (Sammy). But confronted with the innards of a pumpkin?

Horror. Stoic shock. Panic. The word “eeewwwww!” bandied about and some hightailing-it out of the room to go do something more sanitary, like drop bath toys in the toilet and fish them out with their toothbrushes.

Here is a picture I took of Sammy, who was in the “stoic shock” camp:

Ryley, firmly entrenched in horror-mode:

Baby Joel, attempting to devour his jack-o-lantern:

And the finished products, gut-free and gloriously glowing:

Now, a mere 24 hours later, the jack-o-lanterns are beginning to sag. Life is messy, then you sag–the lesson of the pumpkin. But it sure is fun!