Shawn came home today with a bag full of groceries. “Look what I got,” he said, excitedly producing a smallish pumpkin from the brown paper sack. “What shall we do with it?”
I picked up the pumpkin and turned it around in my hands. Enjoying the weight and feel of October. Slowly I rotated it, looking for a good spot for a nose, or a bump that is screaming to be an eyebrow. Was it a happy pumpkin or a scary pumpkin?
I turned around to find Shawn looking up “pumpkin” in the index of a cookbook.
Oh well. Opposites attract, I guess.