Yesterday we went pumpkin picking. OK, so we are a little late but it is still five days until Halloween.
Everyone else in the family got a boring ol' orange pumpkin. I waited patiently while Ethan searched for his perfect pumpkin.
This was his pumpkin.
Another little boy in the patch mocked his choice. He said that everyone KNOWS you are supposed to pick the pumpkin just like all the rest of the pumpkins. Ethan didn't care. At the end of the day, he has his very own all-original pumpkin. For all my tough days with this child of mine, I find it refreshing that he has thoughts of his very own. That he does not fear being different yet. That he can actually think for himself. That he knows what he wants. That he happily carried his weird pumpkin right out of that patch. That I felt pride in my son for making his own choices, not parroting mine. I imagine it's only a short time before he falls victim to feeling the need to be like everyone else and pick the pumpkin that everyone else tells him is the pumpkin he should choose.
I wish I could keep this pumpkin and this boy just like this forever.