on levels of pumpkin carving

There are a lot of things I can do well.

There are also a lot things I can not do well. 

The older I get the more I realize just how black and white that list of can and can't's really is. 

I can teach ballet.

I can't dance ballet anywhere near the level at which I used to dance.

I can wash the clothes.

I can't remember to get said clothes out of the dryer.

I can eat an endless amount of chocolate.

I can't eat an endless amount of green beans. 

I can cook.

I can't find the want (or need, really) to cook. Thanks for the sushi rolls, Harris Teeter.

I can mop the floors.

I can't get off Instagram in order to have the time to mop the floors.

And so on and so forth. You get the picture. I added a new can(not) to my list as of last weekend. Are you ready for it?

I can carve a pumpkin.

I can't carve it any better than a small child would carve it. 

But wait, don't even look at Jack the Jack-O-Latern's baby face. Look behind Jackie at Rick's face. His focused, determined, don't-mess-with-me face. The face I see anytime he works on a puzzle. Or cooks a new recipe. Or, at my demands, tries to get the Wii to work. 

That is the face of a dude who can do a whole heck of a lot of stuff. Like finish puzzles, and produce delicious dinner creations, and make a Wii work.

Oh yeah, and carve (etch? with a wand?) a mighty sweet lookin' pumpkin. 

Pumpkins of the Lowcountry, I promise I'll try to do better next Halloween.

People of the Lowcountry, enjoy coming to our doorstep and, based off of the pumpkins, assuming a father and his young child live there.

I can (and did) choose a pretty rad husband.
I can't ever get on my husband's (or his pumpkin's) level.

p.s.- I also watched Hocus Pocus for the first time ever this past weekend (like, no way! Shut up! Jaws on the floor) and all I have to say is Ehhhhhhhhhh. All I know is that if 6 year old Emily had watched that PG movie I would have been asking a lot of questions about virgins...

Over and out.