Pumpkins

A few days ago, Madeleine and I stopped by the grocery store on our walk home from her Creative Movement class. Spotting the pumpkins outside the store, she became convinced that we were buying a pumpkin, despite my repeated assertion that we were not going pumpkin picking until the weekend. As we walked through the various aisles in the store, Madeleine felt the need to continually tell me, "I want pumpkin!" with increasing urgency. When we checked out and paid without any pumpkin, I assumed the matter was settled; however, along our walk home, Madeleine lamented over her non-existent pumpkin: "My pumpkin! My puuuuumpkiiiiin!!!"

A few hours later, when I went into her room to get her up from nap, she gazed at me groggily for a moment, then requested, "I want my pumpkin!"

So you can imagine how excited she was today when I took her to our local "pumpkin patch." Since we were visiting during non-business hours, we weren't able to take a pumpkin home, but she was perfectly content to fondle them and move one pumpkin from its spot to another.



It turns out we were not the only ones there browsing through pumpkins and taking pictures. Another little girl with braids was in the pumpkin patch, posing for pictures taken by what appeared to be her grandmother. Although Madeleine had never met this girl before, she did not hesitate to confidently address the little girl with a name that seemed appropriate: "Julia! Look at THIS pumpkin, Julia! Look, Julia!" I guess since all older women are grandmothers and all men are daddies, all little girls must be Julias, in Madeleine's world.