“Mommy, why are you bringing that punkin inside? It’s supposed to go outside,” Sarah said, her little eyes squinting and her lips sticking out.
Brittany set the bright, orange pumpkin atop the newspaper spread thickly on the table. Then, making sure it was stable before letting go, she gave it a tap and stepped back to look at her daughter.
Sarah stood on a chair, holding on to the table, her eyes level with the middle of the large pumpkin. She was still pudgy with baby fat, so that she had deep creases at her wrists, puffy little fingers, and huge dimples in her chubby cheeks. However, Sarah’s dimples were missing, communicating her concern about the sudden appearance of the perfectly round vegetable she had picked out a few days ago. After reading a book called Plumply, Dumply Pumpkin by Mary Serfoza, she had insisted that her pumpkin be perfectly round and shiny. Then she insisted that the pumpkin belonged next to her bed, but to her disappointment it had been put on the front porch instead.
“You and Daddy are going to carve it,” Brittany said.
“What does that mean?” Sarah asked, reaching her little hand out to stroke the pumpkin’s skin.
“You are going to make it a jack-o-lantern, with a face.”
Although Sarah still looked confused, she said “Ok, Mommy.”
Brittany watched Sarah to make sure she did not fall off her chair until Ryan arrived with a pen, a knife and the pumpkin carving tool from the kitchen. He then sat down in a chair next to her and promptly set to work teaching two-year old Sarah how to carve her first pumpkin.
Meanwhile, Brittany went into the kitchen and began to carve up a pie pumpkin for dinner. It was smaller, dirtier, and nowhere near as round as Sarah’s pumpkin. First, she washed off the exterior, running her fingers along the rough skin and pushing the dirt into the sink. As she cut open the top, she heard the hollow, grating sound of the knife cutting through the tough skin, and once she removed the top, she smelled the earthy mix of dirt and sunlight. She was reminded of her grandmother’s pumpkin bread, which was so coveted at Thanksgiving that everyone fought over the last piece.
As she reached inside with a spoon to scoop out all the seeds, she grimaced. The guts of the pumpkin were so gritty and oily. Her goal was to get them all out and into the trash without getting any on her hands. Once the unpleasant task was completed, she removed the skin using a peeler and cut the flesh into two-inch pieces, placing them evenly on a sheet pan. Finally, she covered the pieces in butter, brown sugar, and pecans before putting them in the oven.
Finished, she left her small kitchen to join Sarah and Ryan at the table. The face had been successfully drawn. It looked more like scribbles, but each scribble was in roughly the right section. The top had been removed, and Sarah was just reaching in with her tiny hand to remove the first batch of seeds.
Brittany quickly grabbed the video camera and started filming.
“Mommy,” Sarah said, first scrunching up her nose and then opening her eyes in wonder. “It’s all slimy and squishy.”
Though her hand might have been small, the blob of pumpkin strings and seeds was large, and it trailed down from her hand, held as high in the air as she could reach.
“Look Mommy!” she said proudly, turning to walk toward Brittany, which was when Brittany realized Sarah was standing on the table. Quickly, she set down the camera with it still on, and she held her hands out.
“Don’t fall, sweetie,” she said, trying to avoid the extended goup while still securing the little girl. “Ryan, is it really a good idea for her to stand on the table?”
“She’s fine,” Ryan said. “It’s just for now. Here, Sarah, put that on this cookie sheet so we can cook the seeds later.”
Sarah tossed the blob of orange guts at the sheet, causing it to splatter and both her parents to wince. Then she turned back to the pumpkin. She looked down into the hole, her blond curls falling inside. When she bobbed up again, little bits of orange flesh stuck to her hair.
“You can eat this?” she asked.
“Yep,” Brittany replied, still hovering close with one hand on Sarah’s back. “I actually have some in the oven for dinner right now.”
Sarah stuck her hand back inside the pumpkin and pulled out a few orange strings with one seed attached.
“Can I eat this now?” she asked, looking up at Brittany and extending her prize.
“Honey, that’s raw,” Brittany said.
“Uh, huh,” Sarah said nodding. “So, can I eat it?”
Sarah was always wanting to eat raw fruits and vegetables. Whether it was an entire basket of blueberries, a huge pile of frozen peas, or biting into a raw potato, Sarah wanted to try them all. Brittany supposed it was normal for a toddler – everything goes in the mouth. At least they were blessed with Sarah that the only things she put in her mouth were food.
“I suppose it can’t hurt,” Brittany said, with a shrug. She reached over and pulled the seed out of the goop, so Sarah would not choke on it. “Go ahead.”
Sarah quickly popped the bright, orange glob into her mouth and just as quickly spit it out back into the pumpkin.
“Ucky,” she said, wincing and spitting. “I don’t like punkin. It’s ucky.”
Laughing, Ryan handed Sarah her Tinkerbell cup with straw. “Have a drink. It will help.”
Sarah greedily slurped up the milk.
“It tastes much better cooked,” he said, returning to emptying the pumpkin with a spoon. “Trust me.”
“Nope,” said Sarah. “Don’t like punkin.”
She then sat down on the table and played with the messy piles of strings on the cookie sheet, digging her fingers in deep, pulling it up high, and letting it splatter when she dropped it. Brittany winced each time pumpkin guts flew on the table, Sarah’s shirt or off the table onto the carpet. She tried to relax and let the little girl explore, but it was difficult.
Once Ryan finished removing all the innards, Brittany returned to the kitchen to clean up the seeds and cook them. She was overwhelmed by the heavenly smell of pumpkin and roasting nuts. She stopped in front of the oven, eyes closed, and enjoyed the smells of fall. When she opened her eyes, she scowled at the seeds. Cleaning them was her least favorite part of pumpkin carving. Unlike Sarah, Brittany hated the feel of the slime on her hands, and the bits of pumpkin goop that got under her fingernails.
By the time she returned to the table, the pumpkin had a face. Tiny mismatched eyes, a triangle nose, and a big half-moon grin.
“Look, Mommy. Look!” Sarah said, hopping up and down while again standing on a chair next to Ryan.
It was then that Brittany noticed that Sarah’s diaper was full and sagging. It was barely still holding on to the tiny girl’s waist.
“Sarah, I think it’s time for a diaper change,” she said.
“Not now, Mommy, look!”
Brittany looked at the pumpkin closely and smiled. “It looks great guys.”
Then she turned back to Sarah and frowned.
“Sarah, where are your pants?” She wondered how long ago the little girl had taken them off.
“I was hot,” Sarah said, reaching out to stick her finger through the pumpkin’s nose.
Brittany looked around the tiny dining area and found them stuck inside the toy box. She rubbed her eyes and wondered if any of the pictures or video she had taken were good, or if her daughter would be pantsless in all of them. She honestly could not remember.
After a quick change into a clean diaper and some footie pajamas, which Brittany felt confident would remain on, they put a candle in the pumpkin and turned off the lights. The tiny flame sparkled inside the holes and cast shapes on the white walls of the room.
“Oooh,” they all sang together, as the pumpkin twinkled and glowed in the darkness.
“Excellent job, you guys,” Brittany said, giving Ryan a kiss on the cheek and Sarah one on the top of her head.
Deciding to eat dinner by pumpkin-light, Ryan strapped Sarah into her highchair, while Brittany brought out the brats, pumpkin and green beans.
“I’ll eat geen beans but not that punkin,” Sarah said with a serious look on her face. “Punkin is ucky.”
“Just try a little bite,” Ryan said, putting a cube on Sarah’s tray and cutting it into small pieces.
“Nope,” Sarah said again. “Not gonna eat that ucky punkin.”
Sarah scrunched up her nose and glared at the glowing jack-o-lantern. Then she poked the sticky orange pieces on her tray and smashed them flat. Once they were completely pulverized, she started to eat her green beans instead.
“You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to,” Brittany told her. “But, you are missing out.”
Sarah watched closely as both her mommy and daddy ate some.
“It’s good,” Brittany said.
“Sooooo, good,” Ryan agreed.
Finally, Sarah scooped up some of the mashed pumpkin on her tray and, squeezing it again between her fingers, popped it into her mouth. Instantly, her eyes lit up, and she smiled.
“I like punkin!” she said, reaching for more and stuffing it into her mouth. “More, please.”
Ryan cut up several more pieces on her tray, and Sarah ate them faster than Ryan could finish slicing them.
“Punkin is good,” Sarah said between chews. “We should have punkin every night.”
Ryan and Brittany laughed.
When Sarah finished eating, she sat back in her highchair and looked out the window of the dining area. At first, she blinked drowsily, but then her eyes lit up.
“Look Daddy,” she said, pointing her sticky finger at the window. “It’s moony out.”
“Moony?” Brittany and Ryan said together.
“Yes, moony, look.”
Brittany stood up from her chair to look out the window, and Ryan rotated around in his seat. Outside the window, a shining full moon, with an orange glow, lit up the sky.
“Beautiful,” Ryan said.
“It's moony!” Sarah repeated with a big grin.
Brittany finally realized that Sarah was trying to say that just like the sun was sunny the moon was moony. She laughed.
“Yes, it is sweetie,” she said, kissing the blond curls and using her napkin to clean the sticky fingers. “It is very moony out. You’re right.”
As the table was cleared, Brittany lifted up the pumpkin to take it back outside.
“Mommy, where are you taking my punkin now?” Sarah asked, following and holding on to her pants leg.
“Back outside,” Brittany said.
“But I want it by my bed,” Sarah whined, rubbing her eyes.
“We talked about that sweetie,” Brittany said, making her way downstairs to the front door. “The pumpkin needs to stay outside.”
As Brittany opened the door, Sarah shot out the gap into the front yard and ran across the grass in her footies. Several squirrels were collecting acorns from a giant oak tree, and seeing the girl racing toward them, they fled for safety up its large trunk.
“Squirrels!” Sarah yelled and then laughed.
She stood at the base of the tree and looked up at the little furry faces who looked back down at her.
“Mommy,” Sarah said, her dimples disappearing as she frowned.” What if the squirrels eat my punkin?”
“They won’t,” Brittany said.
“They might,” Sarah insisted and glared at the squirrels.
“I’ve never had it happen before,” Brittany assured her. She placed the pumpkin on the step and stepped over next to Sarah by the tree. “Come on. Time to get to bed.”
Sarah refused to move for a long time as she looked hard at the pumpkin and then up in the tree. Finally, she nodded as if satisfied and began to walk towards the house.
“You’re right, mommy,” Sarah said as Brittany opened the door. “That squirrel won’t eat my punkin because it isn’t cooked yet, so it is very ucky. Even squirrels won’t eat ucky things.”