NO! I Don’t Want To Buy A Pumpkin! A Letter To My Son.

My six year old has been asking me for weeks to purchase a pumpkin. He struggles to understand why I’m not keen. I wondered if there are other mum’s out there with the same problem? So, this is an open-letter for all mums to send to their child. 
Dear Child,
I do not want to buy a pumpkin. 
Yes, I said it. Not even one. Not today, maybe tomorrow – but really we both know that tomorrow I will feel exactly the same as I do today. No. 
Why, you ask? Well, I’ll do my very best to explain. 
Firstly, we need to carry the pumpkin round the shop while we get the few items that were actually on my shopping list. You know, of the food that will help to keep us alive. Initially you’ll be eager to offer to hold the pumpkin for me, which is so sweet, yet you know that half way round the store you’re going to complain that the pumpkin is too heavy and I’ll end up carrying it instead. 
So then we end up playing this game of Buckeroo, where I’m carrying armfuls of produce while clinging onto the flailing hands of your bothers and balancing the pumpkin on my head. 
No, darling. I don’t want to buy a pumpkin. 
Yes, in theory, we could plan this and make sure to take a shopping cart, and then it’s all plain sailing right? Oh, but then we need oranges too, you know, to make baby pumpkins for our “display” (evidently, a display that you’ve seen on YouTube) And then we need tools to carve the pumpkin out. Oh and a LED tea light to go inside. So then we’ll be running around the store like headless chickens trying to find these items and I’ll be so focussed on the pumpkin and it’s accessories, I’ll forget to get ketchup and then you’ll refuse to eat your dinner. 
No sweetheart, I don’t want to buy a pumpkin. 
If we did get the pumpkin home, and you’re smiling at me all happy and sweet. I know the period of contentment is only temporary because as soon as the seats are buckled and the engine starts, I’ll hear the word “Mummy” on repeat until I respond, sighing, knowing what’s to come…
“When we get home, can we carve the pumpkin?
Sweetie, I have to put one thousand loads of laundry through the washer, hoover the entire house, scrub dog urine out the bedroom carpet, wipe round the sink in the bathroom, empty the over-flowing rubbish bin, wash enough dishes and cutlery for us to use for dinner, PREPARE dinner, speak to your Auntie about our plans this week, make supper for Nanna, take the dog out for a walk, find out how Grandpa is doing and a bazillion other mini tasks I’ll need to do in-between. 
No Sweepea, I don’t want to buy a pumpkin.
Oh but then we could just carve the pumpkin first and do the rest of the jobs later? I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking. Well, you know that cool video you saw where the people washed their pumpkin with bleach to make it last longer? You’ll insist we do that. Then I’ll need to find batteries for the tea-light to go inside, then we will need to decide where to place the pumpkin, and finally, when I think the job is done and we can all go back to our normal lives, you’ll ask me over and over and over again:
 “Can I bring my pumpkin to church?”
“Can I bring it with me in the car?”
“Can I take it to Max’s house?”
“Have you texted Max’s mum to ask her if I can bring my pumpkin?”
“Can I bring the pumpkin to bed with me?” 
And it goes on…
No dear, I don’t want to buy a pumpkin. 
Even if I manage to endure all of that, and meet all of your demands, every fibre of my being knows what you’ll say next time we go to the shop. In fact, just the thought of it turns my blood cold and the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end…with sheer dread I know it’ll be coming.
Six words to stop my beating heart. You know what they are. 
“Mummy, can we buy another pumpkin?” 
NO!!!
Hugs and Kisses,
Mummy.
xxxxx
Share if you can relate and see who else agrees.
P.S. Here’s a picture of my son’s pumpkin. He won. 
img_0628
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