Knife Therapy

Sometimes I need to stab a vegetable. It's good therapy.

I've been stabbing lots of veggies lately, so I am sure that would make me like a serial veggie killer or a mass veg murderer. Whatever. I need knives for anger management.

Yesterday I took my boys to the pumpkin patch to get a load of pumpkins to carve (duh). All boys want are the biggest (fill in the blank). It starts out small now, but the "biggest" is costing me. We picked out our pumpkins, needing different sizes for a cyclops and a Harry Potter and went to pay. CHA CHING! Who on earth buys three pumpkins for almost 40 bucks??? Apparently, I do and it smarts like the dickens. I could have bought them for a fraction of the price at Wal Mart, but nooo. I had a massive idiot moment. I was the one who wanted to throw the tantrum right there in the parking lot, stomp my feet and scream about how life was so unfair. But instead I started talking to myself like a crazy bag lady.

The money goes to a good cause, right? Helping fund the Boy's and Girl's club and pay for the Thanksgiving meal for the homeless is good. I shouldn't care that they just cleaned me out with a smile. Maybe if I keep reminding myself that it's just $40. It's only money...
It's not working. I ended up doing this to make me feel better:

Notice how messy my poor house is and the fabulous knives sticking out of Harry Potter's head? I'd much rather be reading those books on my counter. Heck, I'd rather be cleaning house. The boys thought it was good fun watching me yell at a dead vegetable, berating its existence and telling it where it could shove my knife.



This is what we ended up with. This is not all of the pumpkins we carved and it's hard to believe they're still smiling after the massive lobotomy I had just performed. The boys designed the faces. Not bad for a 7 and 9 year old, eh?