The (ugly) Pumpkin …

I am behind. (Again)

We don’t have any fall decorations out yet. No spicy candles. Pretty harvest colored accents around the house. Nothing.

So when daughter and I were at the store a few days ago, I asked her to grab a pumpkin.

Me: We should at least have ONE pumpkin outside.

Daughter: Do I HAVE to go get one?

Me: Pleeeeeease?

Daughter came back with what must have been the nastiest pumpkin in the bin.

Me: THAT one? You picked that one? It’s yucky!

Daughter: What? I like the warty things all over it. It’s got character.

Me: When you were little, you used to pick the most Perfect, prettiest, round pumpkins…

Daughter: But it’s fun. We can make it into a witch. Or something.

So that is why there is a gross pumpkin by our front door.

With any luck, I will get on task this weekend–And there will soon be pretty fall decorations inside and outside our house.

Fingers crossed…

For now, there’s just the ‘ugly’ pumpkin.

Thank you Daughter.

 

Advertisements

About Amy Lauria

Artist. Writer. Single Parent of two college students. Beach Walker. Dog owner who walks outdoors to maintain sanity. Into shiny objects, vacations, glitter, cupcakes, sports, and my beloved sticks, stones and beach glass.
This entry was posted in Daily Life of a Single Parent. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The (ugly) Pumpkin …

  1. Anonymous says:

    She’s back! We really missed your blogs Amy! The ugly pumpkin was very entertaining. There is no such thing as an ugly pumpkin, they are all original and young Katelin Rose is very original,eh!

    deacon

  2. Anonymous says:

    cracking up..

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s