Last night I took part in the traditional Halloween custom of pumpkin carving! I have such fond memories of pumpkin carving from when I was younger. The smell of fresh pumpkin. Getting all down and dirty up to my elbows. Making pumpkin seeds. Displaying them proudly outside. Seeing them smashed to smitherines on the street a few days later. Oh the memories… There’s really nothing better than opening up the top of your pumpkin and jamming your hand into the guts. I think it feels awesome. It’s like how when I go to Sephora, I like to stick my hands in the containers of beads holding the makeup brushes because I like how the beads feel. When I’m carving up my pumpkin, I like to pretend I’m a pumpkin surgeon. Except I’m gutting my patient and then slicing up his face, so maybe not a surgeon. More like a murderer.
Here are my friends’ pumpkins:
Aren’t they great! So many talented pumpkin carvers!
And here’s mine:
Always making my parents proud.
Then I gave it a uni-brow.