Last night was kind of crazy. There was a World Series game that includes my husband's team, Sunday Night Football, and we were both frantically attempting to finish up some grading and lecture writing before the week began. I had to make a slaw for lunch and a dessert for a party we're attending tonight, and I felt like we were just spinning around our apartment.
At the bottom of the second inning, I looked up in panic.
"We haven't carved the pumpkins!"
I sort of expected Dr. BB to roll his eyes and tell me to forget about it. We're not going to be home tomorrow night when the nonexistent trick or treaters are supposed to come (last year we had zero kids show up), so maybe we don't need to carve jack o' lanterns.
But no. He just looked up from the game, laid some paper down on the table, and got to carving his pumpkin while listening to the commentary on the television.
I remember holidays being so fraught when I was growing up. Carving pumpkins during the World Series would have been a fight. There's something reassuring about how level-headed Dr. BB is and how I can count on him to know that it's important to me, so it should be important to him.
And then I spent forty-five minutes cleaning pumpkin seeds and putting them out to dry. I can hardly wait for some cinnamon spice and salt and pepper seeds later on in the week.
And Zelda? She finds the entire pumpkin carving thing to be sort of interesting, in a puzzling sort of way.
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