Bunny here at the keyboard to write about something that has really kinked my tail this weekend.
Normally, I’m a pretty easygoing little Greyhound. There aren’t too many things that really upset me. However, this weekend, Dad has crossed the line. I think once you hear the story, you will be as incensed as I am.
We really enjoy having Halloween fun at our house. A little bit of decorating happens, and we enjoy dressing up and wearing our costumes to the nursing home earlier in the month to make the residents happy. I guess it’s obvious that we enjoy a good ghost tour or trip to the cemetery as well as learning about local ghost stories, too. Another tradition we have is carving a jack o’ lantern the night before Halloween, too.
This year, Dad hollowed the guts out of the pumpkin rather late on Thursday night. Mom decided that the carving of the pumpkin could wait until she got home from work the next day. We are a little particular about our pumpkin art and we try to do something fun and unique every year. We even do a little research in our attempts to create the perfect work of Halloween art every year.
Dad had training out of town most of last week, and he got done early on Friday. He came home instead of going to the office for the last few hours since he’d spent quite a bit of time driving and away from home during the previous days. Since he was home early, he decided to send Mom a text and tell her he’d carve the pumpkin for her this year. My friends, this should never have been allowed to happen.
Soon, Dad had set to work, and what he created left a shiver down my spine before there was even a candle in it. Instead of some cool, artsy pumpkin, he carved it into some kind of twisted insult to our sense of Halloween haunting. I suppose you’re wondering by now what he did to it. Just be warned, it is hideous.
Dad tried to tell Mom that it was a werewolf, but clearly this is not a werewolf. It bears the mark of the Infidel if I ever saw one. I mean, it’s not like we had two pumpkins this year so that there could be equal representation, and he knew Mom wasn’t going to be able to procure another one so that we could do another one to go with it. The frosting on the pupcake is that not one single trick or treater came to our door on All Hallow’s Eve. I am sure that it’s because they were scared of that pumpkin. Next year, we are going to have to keep a much closer eye on Dad, and there will be no unsupervised carving of the jack o’ lanterns!