“Pumpkin, you’re dirty.” She knelt and brushed his chubby cheeks clean.
She squeezed him lovingly. “And you’re getting so big.” She tucked a blanket around him.
He failed to win the prize, so she cut him in half then scooped out his guts.
Soon the house smelled of roasting pumpkin.
This week’s fifty word prompt by @jayna is PUMPKIN.
We have pumpkins in our own garden and oddly enough yesterday I murdered three of them, scooped their guts, roasted them in the oven, and scraped the pulp out, blended it, and measured and packaged for the freezer. I use it primarily in pumpkin bread, chili, and soups. But I don’t go for any pumpkin prizes, although some we have this year got quite large. I could never fit a half of one in the oven. Not even sure they’d go quartered. Maybe an 8th at a time… But the small ones are a better eating quality. It’s my first time having that type so I didn’t want to rely on them alone in case they didn’t grow well here. But our hot dry summer has resulted in a bumper crop of pumpkins, thanks to my husband’s careful watering.
