Like ice cream cake at every birthday celebration.
Black Friday shopping.
Grilled cheese sandwiches after church on Sunday night.
Well, let's go ahead and add another one to the list: pumpkin decorating.
I would say pumpkin carving, but, well, that's not something I want to dive into just yet. Something about the boy running around wielding a knife doesn't sit with me too well. I mean, I like the kid and want to keep him around for a while, you know?
So we opted for paint. Well, I opted for paint. Dada suggested Sharpie markers, but how lame is that? Not to mention, how permanent-on-the-skin-for-a-few-days is that?
Cohen should thank me. Because, y'all, the kid had a blast. Between taste-testing each color (I'm pretty sure the stuff was non-toxic. That's probably a mom-fail.) and throwing the paint bottles and carrying them around toddler-style, I managed to milk out almost an hour of entertainment.
And then we decided to actually do some painting. My biggest stipulation to this new tradition is that the boy has to be in complete control of the decorating process. I want it to be his thing, not mine.
This year, well, he's probably still too little to express himself through pumpkin art, so I did have to help him a little bit. I put a dab of paint on the pumpkin or his hands and let him go to town.
And the boy went to town.
The baby? Thoroughly enjoyed himself. The pumpkin? Proudly displayed on the front porch.
I think it's safe to say that this new tradition is a good one.