Sarah Roush

Sarah Roush

Our little boy, Sparky, has been in high spirits the last few weeks. Combines and corn pickers have been busy in the fields and he adores everything about them. He has also been excited about all the pumpkins showing up as decorations. We have several that he has selected and decorated. Occasionally, I catch him having a conversation with the big one — he pats the thing and offers assurances that it is “so cool.”

We drive through parts of town on the way to daycare, and each day he excitedly points out the pumpkins being used as decorations. His daycare provider has jack-o-lantern lights, which he assures me are beautiful. All these expressions of adoration make me think that next week, during the Pumpkin Show, he is going to lose his mind.

Oh, we will take him to ride the rides and sample pumpkin pancakes at the local Kiwanis booth. We may even stay for one of the parades. He will be excited and happy about those experiences, but he will be ecstatic over the giant pumpkins and squash on display. I have a sort of visualization of him being pried off like some sort of giant tick from one of the winning pumpkins when we try to take a picture. He will want to bring it home because he loves it so much. I anticipate a nightmare between now and then about him breaking one of those pumpkins and having to pay for the darn thing. I mean, that could happen… right?

He will be in awe of the pumpkin tower and mesmerized by all the different textures of the nubby gourds available. He will fall in love with yet another white pumpkin; the pumpkins with faces molded into them will probably terrify him. I haven’t decided what his reaction to Pumpkin Man will be, it’s a tough call and could go either way.

For weeks afterwards, he will want to go see the pumpkins and will be disappointed every time we go into town. We will read “The Five Little Pumpkins,” The “Runaway Pumpkin” and “Itsy, Bitsy Pumpkin” until I am ready to scream. With any luck, by Valentine’s Day, I will be able to get him to stop wearing the shirt decorated with jack-o-lanterns.

Oddly enough, he doesn’t seem to be obsessed with any other vegetable. He did tell me the other day that dinosaurs liked broccoli, but that is not the same caliber of fascination.

Somehow, I feel next spring we should try planting a couple seeds in a lame attempt to grow our own pumpkin patch. It would be interesting to watch his reaction as it grows and hopefully thrives. It would be a good introduction to gardening. Who knows, maybe someday, it would be the motivation for him to compete with a giant pumpkin of his own.

Written and submitted by Sarah Roush for The Circleville Herald. The views of this column may not necessarily reflect that of the newspaper.

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