It is no secret that autumn is my favorite season. Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I love gourds, pumpkins, mums, ghosts, and witches. Needless to say, my house is quite decked out.
There is only one thing that spoils my fun this time of year – when someone smashes my pumpkins.

The first day of October I fell victim to such mischief. I was heartbroken. I arrived home after the 10:00pm show to find pumpkin seeds scattered across my driveway and pieces of the pumpkins fatality in the street.

Now, my husband laughed at my outspoken disgust. Shane said, “Its only a pumpkin.”

But, it was more than a pumpkin to me. Just five days earlier my two year old had picked that pumpkin from my Dad’s garden.

Memorial Day weekend we traveled to Grandpa Lindsay’s to plant pumpkins and gourds. We patiently waited for three months for them to grow. My little guy was so excited when we spent the day with grandpa to harvest them. It was so funny watching Kelan follow Dad around and picking which pumpkin would be his, and which would go to his cousins in Illinois. Kelan checked on his pumpkin each day and expressed how he couldn’t wait to use it at his Halloween party. So, to me the pumpkin smashing was more like an attack on my son.

The incident upset me so much that I literally couldn’t sleep. I really didn’t want my son to known his prized pumpkin was gone. Luckily, he spent last weekend with my Mom. That left me time to make a quick trip to the farmers market to find a decoy pumpkin. So far, the replacement has worked and Kelan is none the wiser. I just home this pumpkin can tough it out ‘til the end of the month.