Each Halloween we visit “The Pumpkin House” in our town. Hundreds of HUMONGOUS pumpkins perch on scaffolding up and down the driveway, and the line of spectators snakes down the block.
Carvings range from cartoon characters and political figures to pop culture icons. It’s not unusual to see the gang from Twilight sitting next to Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party. I am amazed how elaborate the carvings are each year.
Carvings range from cartoon characters and political figures to pop culture icons. It’s not unusual to see the gang from Twilight sitting next to Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party. I am amazed how elaborate the carvings are each year.
Molly takes pictures of nearly every one.
When she saw one of a BULL with a piece of dooky coming out of its rear, and a big slash through it indicating, “NO,” Molly said, “Look, NO BUFFALO POOP! That’s so cool!” Cracked me up.
So we had presidents, Scooby Doo, the Mona Lisa, and even God’s hand reaching across the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel to touch a Jack-o-Lantern. Very neat.
This year’s theme was “optical illusions,” so the line went slowly as people tried to see hidden pictures within pictures.
Check this one out! See the old people? See the vase? See the people playing instruments?
The thing is, hidden or not, there was an awful lot of nudity this year. Seriously. I’m used to a Venus de Milo here or there. Fine. But several of this year’s pumpkins looked like they were ripped straight out of the K*ama Sutra.
I feared my 11 year old boy would encounter porn at some point, but I had no inkling it would be of the Pumpkin variety.
In fact, one pumpkin looked a lot like page 37 of a certain book my well-intentioned friend gave me years ago in an attempt to "loosen me up." When I found the book too hot to handle, I placed it high on my closet shelf. A couple years later, when my father in law was helping with a home improvement project in my closet, he found it and said to Tom, “Heh, Heh… I found your Instruction Manual.” Good times.
Anyhoo, I’m still a fan of the Pumpkin House. And I guess I don’t have to worry about teaching my kids “family life education,” something that is absent from our school’s curriculum. When they ask questions, I can just say, “Wait until next Halloween.”
And that’s no Buffalo Poop.
