There's been a great deal of pumpkin bedazzling around here. For a house full of boys that's something... the bedazzling part. It might be the only time I'll ever use that word in a post on our family blog -- ever -- so just to solidify it's rarity, I'll say it again...
We've done bedazzled our gourds 'round here.
It started with googley eyes. Did you know they came in the self-adhesive variety? Rad.
It then morphed into painting little pumpkins with glue and sprinkling dumping glitter on them. This was an idea they gathered from Preschool. Dag-nabit.
Then there was the birthday party where they colored and applied foam stickers to their little hearts content on mini pumpkins.
So I thought we had it all covered.
Nay.
Ryan and I put on our "parental panties" and carved it up. And I sort of vote this as THE worst holiday tradition known to mankind... for obvious reasons:
The gigantic glops of pumpkin guts and the slippery seeds that make their way to every surface of your house. The way your forearm itches in a weird "there are pumpkin fibers sticking to my skin and slowly and itchily drying" kind of way. And then there's the fact that your oldest goes neurotic to collect EVER.LAST.SEED since he learned you could bake and eat them at preschool... geez that place is educational. :)
Yep, the mister and I had fully decided this tradition is all a bunch of junk.
Until we looked at this.
Which is the whole reason these traditions live on from year-to-year, you know… it's these dang cherubs we all call "our children".
There's really no sense in fighting it. Because seriously…
A variety of emoting jacks on the front step with shirtless kids who are sporting matching faces?
I'll take it.
Happy Halloween, Y'all.
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