It started innocently enough. Around this date in 1989, I, with a toothy giggle, put a spoonful of seedy, stringy pumpkin guts from my semi-hollowed pumpkin into Tim’s semi-hollowed pumpkin. With a defiant grin and a glance back at Dad who was filming the event, Tim took offense and plopped the viscera back into my pumpkin. Back and forth we went, scooping guts from one pumpkin to the other in our zero-sum game of jack-o-lantern hollowing.
It was fun. It was messy. I laughed and may have drooled a little bit.
And then it escalated.
Instead of going from pumpkin to pumpkin, the guts went from pumpkin to clothes, then hair, then face. We giggled, squealed and chased each other around the yard slinging handfuls of pumpkin innards.
Once the brisk autumn air had exhausted us we took back our places around the picnic table and got back to the carving task at hand. But just when I mistakenly thought the dust had settled, a handful of cold, musky pumpkin guts were ground into my unsuspecting face.
With a wail of whiny disgust I exclaimed, “Guys, it’s not fun anymore!”
Every year that old VHS tape finds its way off the shelf and into the player. And every year my family has a chuckle at my expense. And after 20 years, I just have one thing to say about my feelings toward the annual mockery….
One Comment
I’ve seen the video…”may” have drooled?!