Competitive Dad

I hate it when someone tries to steal my thunder. I hate it.

So when I came home the other night from the office to find the above carved pumpkin on the table, I hit the roof.

"I was supposed to carve that pumpkin, not you!" I hissed (cos the kids were asleep and I didn't want to wake them).

Mrs FU just smirked and said something like "blah blah blah I am much better at carving pumpkins that you blah blah blah besides do you want to win that bottle of champagne? blah blah blah"

Or some utter tosh like that.

So in the morning I decided that I would carve the other side of the pumpkin and show her exactly what I could do. And I wouldn't need these gimmicky little saws, plastic scoops or drill bits. I would use a manly knife dammit!

A couple of incisions later*, I decided it wasn't for me. I mean come on, really this is just kids stuff, a complete waste of my time and I've got better things to do but if you fancy having a crack at carving, you'd do well to nip down to your local Waitrose where they are selling pumpkin carving kits for £6.99 (and they may well be reduced in price tomorrow). Now if you'll excuse me I have to make a vampire cape out of dustbin liners.


*OK the general course of action consisted of a slice here, gouge there, stand back, examine, stab, hollow, pierce, a yelling of "balls", cut, cut, cut, scratch head, slice, slice, slice, exasperated whine, hack, hack, hack, stare, frenzied hack, hack, hack, slam knife down and walk to the bottom of the garden.

Pumpkin carving is rubbish

And this is scarier than any pumpkin carving

But not as scary as my son