Dread seems to be a common feeling that I have when it comes to certain parenting experiences. This is going to be a nightmare, seems to be a common sentiment. That sort of thing. Kids tend to make everything—seriously, everything—take twice as long. More complicated, more time-consuming, more messy. Than it ever really needs to be.
It’s mostly because the Doozer likes to do things. Or, everything. As if he is unaware that he is 4. And not capable of doing everything. I’m a big kid now, his common sentiment. Not exactly. Stop it.
So, when it came time to carve a pumpkin for this year’s Halloween, I was skeptical. I didn’t think this was going to work out. When we handed over a small marker and he started sketching out the face on the side that I was going to have to carve, I was pretty certain it was going to end badly. And sure enough, he finished drawing, and I just knew it wasn’t going to work out.
“Great job,” we told him.
But then something strange happened. I started carving. And only once did I have to tell him to keep his tiny fingers away from the miniature pumpking-cutting saw. But then, it was done. And I’ll be damned. He knew what he was doing. Sometimes it does work out.
And nobody got injured. I’d count that as a success.
Now, this is my new favorite thing.
Happy Halloween . . .
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