Tattoos for pumpkins sounded like an awesome idea, something I’d never seen before, which I found in K-Mart. This one wasn’t just a blog review. It was worthy of an entire Saturday night activity. Temporary tattoos for gourds. Yes, it makes sense. All of the fun, without getting your hands all pumpkin-gutty. Yes, pumpkin-gutty is a word.
The tattoos come in packs of two and in a variety of faces. After much deliberation and hand-wringing, I finally settled on this two pack:
As much as I hated the ogre face, I loved that Merdude face.
Next, I needed awesome pumpkins. And I didn’t want just any old pumpkins, like the slumpy sad ones at the grocery store in the same aisle as the bananas. That’s just insulting.
We took a trip to the plant nursery’s Fall Festival where we could buy pumpkins in their natural environment, next to jars of apple butter and sixty five thousand screaming children getting their faces painted. At these kinds of places, you’re paying a premium price for the pumpkins. The girlfriend suggested I use both sides of one pumpkin, but I stood firm. Two faces, two pumpkins. TWO FACES, TWO PUMPKINS!
I chose these guys:
I was especially excited about the white pumpkin. I couldn’t wait to tattoo it. While at the nursery, we also bought some apple cider donuts and some sort of weird Amish corncob that magically pops popcorn. Yep, it was going to be a fun Halloween-themed night with a big bowl of popcorn, cider donuts, and pumpkin decorating.
But then everything went completely, utterly wrong. First, the girlfriend started a fire with the Amish corncob thing in the microwave, where it lit up like goddamn Fourth of July firecracker. Yes, it actually had microwave directions. The lesson here is don’t trust the Amish. Especially when they give you microwave directions.
Here it is in the sink, after the flame was doused. The apartment reeked like an outdoor campfire, and still does, even with all the windows open.
Maybe it was an omen. Next, I royally screwed up pumpkin tattoo number one. I haven’t done a temporary tattoo since I was eleven, and I completely forgot how to do it. I forgot to remove the protective plastic sheet, which permanently bonded Ogre-dude’s face to the paper backing instead of the pumpkin. So I have no Ogre dude to show you.
Instead, here’s a picture of the mess scattered across the dining room table:
He wasn’t my favorite anyway. I blamed the campfire fumes. I moved on to the awesome Merdude, for which I was saving the white pumpkin for it. I went about carefully cutting out the little tattoos again, exercising all of my patience. This time, I remembered to remove the plastic sheeting.
However, I am a moron and screwed up again. I put the eyes on backwards, creating one ugly abomination:
Now relationships are about comforting the other person and looking past flaws and all that stuff. The girlfriend almost burned down the apartment, and I shrugged it off. “Oh it’s whatever honey. That microwave is crap. We need to get a new one.”
But the pumpkin? Even the girlfriend didn’t try to minimize it. She just looked at it and said, “yeah, that’s horrible.”
Defeated, I sat the ugly bastard on display on our table, thinking maybe I could find a way to enjoy his charm. I found myself instantly avoiding looking at that corner of the room. So I did what I had to do. I stood up, took the white pumpkin to the sink, stuck it under running water, and scrubbed until I restored its virginity. And now my wrist hurts.
It’s been a weird night. So this is not really a review. But the white pumpkin shall return triumphantly for another post, another night.