Pumpkin carving: a “stinky” business

In case you missed the memo, Halloween is just a few days away. So tonight we set aside some time to carve a pumpkin, the very first Knight-pumpkin-carving experience. That’s right, it’s never been done in our house before.

DSC_0092The idea was to make it a Connor and “Daddy” project, with me closely supervising the twins as they supervised the carving. Alan came up with a simple design, got out a big knife, and got started. Connor was more than eager to get involved and help… at first. He bellied up to the table (shirtless to prevent messes), reached that big spoon into the pumpkin, pulled out a measly spoonful or two, and quit, saying the pumpkin was too “stinky.” He then proceeded to retreat to the living room to play with his toy trucks. DSC_0089

So much for that special father-son moment! But like any good sport, Alan was up to the challenge of finishing the project on his own, as the boys and I sat on the sidelines and cheered him on. Connor even returned to lead the cheers. And we all think Alan did a pretty fantastic job with the final product! The boys were certainly impressed. DSC_0100

I then had the brilliant idea to take the pumpkin seeds and roast them, remembering how my mom would do this once or twice when we were little, and I loved to eat the roasted seeds. I’m sure I helped her dig out the seeds a time or two, but I’m also now more than sure that I blocked that experience from my memory.

Wow, what better way to ruin a perfectly good evening then by digging your hands into a pile of orange slime, only to meticulously scrape each and every seed out of said slime. I was about three seeds into the process when I began to quickly regret my decision. “Seriously, who does this? Who tortures themselves like this?” I asked over and over as I waded through pumpkin goo.

Every time I take on a new project in the kitchen, I like to channel my inner Martha Stewart for the process. But tonight I realized a serious flaw in my thinking. Martha would never be caught wrist-deep in pumpkin goo, she probably pays some peon to do it for her because, let’s face it, she’s Martha Stewart. Oh well. I sucked it up and powered on, and the pile of seed-filled slime is no more.

DSC_0105My hard-fought-for seeds are now roasting happily in the oven. I sure hope they taste good after all this trouble!

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