Gross, Pumpkins. Just gross.

So, I love pumpkins. Carving them, painting them, hugging them, and what have you. And you know I love pumpkin flavored things that aren't even pumpkins. But for the past two years, my pumpkins have taken a turn for the worse post-Halloween. Last year, I bought a perfect pumpkin but never got around to carving it. It sat outside on my balcony on an adorable folding chair of mine and I forgot about it. In Kansas, the frigid November weather would have simply refrigerated it, but that's not the case down south. It literally baked to the chair. Sparing vile details, I'll just tell you that I gagged numerous times and had to throw away the chair. So THIS year, I carved a pumpkin but it was thrown away before things really got out of hand. But the little pumpkin I painted I thought surely wouldn't be effected that bad. Oh, contrare, Miss Anderson. It certainly rotted from the inside and deflated before an encore performance of last year sans chair. But once again, I gagged. I really hope this isn't an annual thing.