Last week Sean’s kindergarten teacher asked me if I’d be willing to come up to the school and lead a couple of 15-20 minute classes on pumpkins. I know my way around a pumpkin and it sounded like fun, so I said sure, why not.
When I arrived at the school, the teacher gave me a 10-second overview of the lesson plan, three pumpkins and a knife. Then she blindfolded me, spun me around three times and pushed me towards my classroom.
The lesson plan was this: She would send three or four children at a time to my room where we would list on a whiteboard all the characteristics of a pumpkin. Then we would read a short book on how a pumpkin starts from a seed, grows into a pumpkin, and then the seeds from the pumpkin return to the ground where more pumpkins grow. Oh I’m sorry. I just gave away the ending. Hope that doesn’t ruin it for you.
Anyway, after the book, the children were to explore the pumpkin. They were to put their hands in, on and around the pumpkin, they were to experience pumpkin slime and become one with the pumpkin. At which time I would send them back to the teacher covered in pumkin guts and she would send me three more unsuspecting children (insert scary maniacal laugh).
If I’ve learned one thing as a mother, it is this: managing children is a lot like throwing a party. Any possible thing that can be done ahead of time, should be done ahead of time.
With that thought in mind, I decided that I would cut the tops off the pumpkins before the children arrived to my room so that I wasn’t faced with wielding a knife while a small crowd of 5-year-olds tried to “help”. But the pumpkins the teacher had given me were as hard as bowling balls. The knife that I had just wasn’t cutting it. Cutting it! Ha! I crack myself up.
About time this, another teacher, Ms. Danielle, happened by my room and saw that I had worked up a bead of sweat trying to cut the top off a pumpkin. She did not point and laugh but politely asked how it was going. I said, not so well and I jokingly asked her if she happened to have a chainsaw. She said, no, but she did have a hacksaw. I laughed and then I noticed she wasn’t kidding, so I said, “Dudette? Seriously?”
Ms. Danielle slipped away and quickly returned with a hacksaw. I immediately had a series of thoughts: 1) Ain’t it great living in Texas!? 2) Mental note to self: Do not tick off Ms. Danielle. 3) Wow, she’s got her own hacksaw! 4) If she keeps a hacksaw in her purse, I wonder what she has under the car seat?
Side Bar: If I were lost out in the wilderness with someone, I would pick Ms. Danielle over Bear Grylls because for one thing, she carries a hacksaw and that would be useful. And two, she seems pretty pragmatic. I’m sure she would not get naked and jump into a freezing cold river for demonstration purposes as Bear likes to do. And three, being a woman, she would ask for directions and we wouldn’t get lost in the first place and we would go shopping instead and we would not have to eat bugs because we could just go to Starbucks or Panera.
There for a minute, I thought there was point to this post, but apparently I was mistaken.
All in all, I think the Intro to Pumpkinology class was a success. No one threw up or fainted or suffered any permanent psychological damage other than three small pumpkins.