Sometimes I wonder what my boys will be when they grow-up. It’s hard to imagine, though I’m pretty sure I can cross Dr. Jake off the list of potential possibilities. Now I don’t like to prejudge my kids’ personalities, hopes or futures, but I think this is a pretty safe bet.
How do I know?
Leading up to Halloween, we read our two pumpkin-themed books every night. Nick and Mike in the Pumpkin Patch and My First Halloween. Miss Maria also asked James if he could bring a bigger pumpkin to school so they could show the kids what’s inside.
Cut to Sunday night, the evening before Halloween. I set-up our pumpkin carving accoutrements in the backyard and wheel a bundled-up Nate out in the stroller so he can watch this family tradition unfold.
“OK JJ, are you going to help me scoop out the guts?” Jake looks weird… he won’t come near me.
“Jakey, what’s wrong? Aren’t you going to help carve pumpkins? You did it last year.”
He puts his hand over his mouth and his eyes look a little glassy.
“Mama, where’s the guts?” He gags behind his little hand. No joke.
“Jakey, Jakey. It’s not actual guts. It’s just the inside of the pumpkin. It’s just seeds– you’ll see.”
James chastises me for using the word “guts.” What?! He doesn’t know what guts even are. When has he heard that word before? Clearly Jakey gets these dainty sensibilities to cucurbitaceae viscera from his Vasovagal afflicted padre.
I couldn’t get Jake to even touch a pumpkin after we cut into it. James had to throw away all the newspaper with pumpkin bits before Jacob would even approach the table.
A few nights later we were eating dinner which included cubes of butternut squash. “Jacob, you’ll like it. It’s squash. It’s just like pumpkin.” Uh, wrong analogy. Just the thought of pumpkin guts made him gag uncontrollably and brought tears to his eyes.
See? I think it’s safe to cross it off.