We had many adventures this week. Princess Leia launching herself into the car on top of the three boys to ride down to see them off at the school bus. Princess Leia eating the chicken food and then chasing the chickens. Princess Leia stealing my precious sandwich with the artisan bread lovingly peppered tomato slices that I’d made for date night. But let’s talk about pumpkin carving.
The boys have reached that fabulous age where they can carve their pumpkins all on their own. I hand them 3 sharpies, the steak knives, spoons, a metal bowl, and the little pumpkin saws and off they go. It is amazing what they come up with. One boy even gave his pumpkin a big Princess Leia nose. Can you tell which one was modeled after our puppy? This year they even lit the candles on their own (five candles per pumpkin…) and used a few matches to blacken the teeth into frightful perfection.
But with great power comes great responsibility.
Yet, it is the nature of boys to push the boundaries of their world. My boys are no different. I was cooking dinner and happened to look over and see an alarming sight. My lovely flower-shaped candle holder had become the site of a raging inferno fed to flame using tinder from the garbage can. I ran over and tried to blow it out. The problem. At that size, my puff of air only cause the fire to poof up alarmingly into further fury. I rushed the flaming candleholder to the sink. There is something about a burning object that makes a mother want to put it out immediately. I made of poor judgment call. I could have simply let it burn down in the sink. Instead I dowsed the flames with water. My candleholder immediately cracked in about 20 little places. The fire was out, and our young pyromaniacs had brought a grounding from matches upon themselves that all three insisted was “completely unfair.” Such is life. Mothers react to flames in their dining rooms with particular ferocity, despite the calm way that young boys go about creating them.