It's Halloween tomorrow and I realized, as I was picking up the spawn today, that we hadn't gotten any punkins yet. So, we jumped in the car and, after a brief stop at the doctor's office for family flu shots (WEEEE-HOOO!), we stopped off at the Kroger and picked up some melons. Wait, are they melons? No, they're not melons. They're squashes... squash... squeesh... punkins.
Everyone was all fired up to do some carving when I realized that there was no fucking way I was going to let those two psychopaths near any knives, so it ended up being the dad-carves-all-three-goddamn-punkins show. Oh sure, they drew the faces on with a Sharpie, but I was the asshole who had to carve, scoop and de-seed. I forgot how much of a pain-in-the-ass it is to carve a pumpkin, let alone three. I tried to get Mr. Z to at least do some of the scooping, but I kid you not, the boy was actually gagging as he reached in to pull out the goop. That was like my favorite thing to do at his age. If de-gooping punkins were a summer job, I would've been been de-gooping from dusk till dawn. Gagging while cleaning out a punkin. Who is this kid?!
Miss O at least gave it the old kindergarten try and scooped some shit out of her miniscule punkinette for awhile. But then they both disappeared and it was just me and the asshole-lanterns. Miss O wanted hers to be a dog and Mr. Z wanted his to be Professor Frankly from "Paper Mario." Yeah, those'll really terrify the trick-or-treaters. It was getting pretty close to dinnertime, so I kinda rushed through theirs a bit. Not that they gave a rat's dick. For mine, however, I spent a little more time and actually tried out that just-cut-off-the external-layer-of-punkindermis-style that I've seen on the internets. I think it turned out pretty cool, although I was ready to whip all three into the street after I finally finished. I managed to cut myself about 47 times and my fingernails are packed tight with punkin-rrhea, but they're done.
Warning to any of the neighborhood punks out there looking to smash some punkins tomorrow night -- you WILL be de-gooped. And your seeds will be dried and baked with a little salt. Wait... went a little too far with that metaphor. You'll just be de-gooped. You can keep your seeds.