The Great Pumpkin

I have fallen behind on my documentation of life events. I recently wrote about preparing for Christmas and am now traveling back in time to record pre-Thanksgiving goings on. Anyone that knows me understands that I live in a stream-of-consciousness state. My dad once told me that I talk with footnotes. On with the story...

Logan and I packed up one Saturday morning and drove up the road to Jones Orchard to pick our pumpkins. I was a little disappointed to learn that the pumpkins had already been picked and were piled on crates near the entrance of the orchard. The orchard was instead set up for the popular Haunted Corn Maze. Nevermind my disappointment. Logan leaped up and down clapping and shouting "Pumpkins, my pumpkins!" He pointed at another little guy picking out his pumpkin and said "Mommy, that baby is having so much fun!" We inspected all (and I do mean ALL) of the pumpkins and gourds. After trying to pick up every pumpkin, Logan finally settled on the perfect one. We carried our 3 pumpkins to the car and went to the stand to pay. We also picked up local peach jelly (good but nothing like we were able to get in Georgia) and a bag of peanuts. (yes, I know. Logan is supposed to avoid nuts but I caved and he later wheezed...lesson learned)
The following day Logan painted his pumpkin. He artfully layered black, green, and white paint before a final coat of silver glitter. The end product was a gray pumpkin. Perhaps his art skills will improve before next year. He was so proud of his pumpkin! He carried it all over the house and even asked if his pumpkin could sleep in his bed with him. He couldn't wait for Sweet P to visit so he could show off his creation.

Fast forward another day...Logan was in bed and Trey and I were watching television upstairs. I made the comment, "I wonder where Banjo is." Trey replied with something like "Probably downstairs getting into something." A few minutes later our sweet puppy came sauntering up the stairs and into the playroom. She looked guilty. Those sad hound eyes...Oh, and she had pumpkin goo hanging off of her chin. Trey and I both ran downstairs with fear in our hearts. The nightmare was real...Banjo had eaten Logan's precious pumpkin!

What to do, what to do? We put our heads together and came up with a plan. We did what any 3 yr old-fearing parents would do in this situation. We cleaned up the evidence, distracted the kid the following morning, and Trey bought a replacement and painted it before Logan got home from daycare. Trey was proud of his reproduction. All was right in the world until Logan got home. I held my breath and only looked out of one eye. The new pumpkin was considerably bigger than the original. Logan heaved and hefted the new pumpkin into his arms. He looked at me directly. Sweat began to form on my brow and the hair stood up on my head. In a seriously intimidating voice, my son said "Mommy, my pum'kin is growing big like me." WHEW! Someday we will have to fess up and tell him the tale of the great pumpkin. But for now...I know our secret is safe with you!