I’ve mentioned before that my mom was a “country wannabe” even when living in a small house in California.  Despite our postage-sized yard, she was determined to grow pumpkins for my brother and me.  The problem was our yard was so small, she could only make room in a patch of dirt close to the street.  But, with her tender care and her very green thumb, that patch actually produced large, bright orange pumpkins!

Of course, as a little girl (I was only about six years old) I was very anxious to pick the pumpkins.  But my mom was teaching me the merits of patience and said we had to wait until the pumpkins were just right.

I remember one sad day when two teenage boys were walking down the street and noticed the pumpkins, still growing on the vine.  One of the boys plucked the biggest, best pumpkin and, with seemingly great delight, raised that pumpkin above his head and smashed it to the ground.  As a little girl, I didn’t understand exactly what was happening but I was fairly certain that this boy’s action was wrong.  But my mom, who was horrified by the sight, tore out of our house and ran screaming hysterically after those two boys.

I can only imagine what this must have looked like to the pranksters, as we all know there is nothing scarier than an angry housewife whose pumpkin has just been stolen!

I don’t think those boys were ever caught but hopefully they were scared straight.  Maybe the experience taught them some important lessons about honor and integrity – or maybe they grew up to become a famous 90’s rock band! Get it?