The horror. The horror.

OK, I admit it. I was suckered into purchasing one of those glorious pumpkins sitting outside Whole Foods. And then further enticed by the Halloween issue of Martha Stewart Living. I was so excited to carve the hombrecito‘s first real pumpkin (they have pumpkin or calabasa in Buenos Aires, but they’re not the classic orange ones, they look more like acorn squashes).

So last Saturday, I went ahead and carved this sucker, going for the classic scary face as we don’t have a linoleum carving kit to do anything fancy-schmancy (note to self: add linoleum carving kit to list of silly things I don’t need but want).

And then my husband so very intelligently pointed out that Halloween is a good two and a half weeks away and asked if I was aware that this pumpkin was already starting to get a bit, well, funky?

Hmm. I took a closer look at Mr. Pumpkin Head. Is that — what IS that odd fuzzy black stuff collecting around his eyes? And his ragged, toothless grin? I think someone’s got a bad case of scurvy… UGH. Mold. Super mold. Gnarly squishy-flesh inducing mold had completely taken over the poor guy and was eating him from the inside out. The horror. The horror (name that movie).

Desperate measures were necessary, namely a swift and merciful plunge down the garbage shoot.

Adios Mr. Pumpkin Head. We hardly knew ya.

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