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Annual Protest

I made it a few weeks longer this year before having my usual breakdown. I was walking though the Giant when I spied that one thing that pushed me completely over the edge. I'm sorry to say that I didn't stop to photograph it, but I'll give you a hint.

It's the return of the pumpkin things. All the pumpkin things. One can barely move these days without bumping into one. Why do we persist in this self-inflicted delusion?

We all know by now that Pumpkin Spice lattés contain no pumpkin. And just this week the word got out that even canned pumpkin doesn't contain actual pumpkin! Which means that probably most pumpkin things in the world are not really pumpkin, either. Pies, muffins, cookies, cheesecake, mousse...no pumpkin.

It's a cruel joke, really. Probably devised by some cranky mom or school lunch lady who just wants us to eat our squash. The horror of it--"squash spice", "squash pie", "squash mousse." Everything you believed about pumpkin is a lie. How will you ever trust anything again?

Our Cinderella dreams have come to a burnt-out Jack-o-Lantern end.

Anyway, back to the grocery. I turned the corner to the next aisle and there it was: pumpkin...paper...towels. I began to feel a little queasy. I may have started to hyperventilate. I backed away slowly and moved on with my shopping.

Paper towels? What's next? Pumpkin bathroom tissue? Shampoo? Feminine hygiene products?

The march of the pumpkins must be quashed. We must fight for our right to live pumpkin-free. Join me. Before it's too late.

 

 

 

 

 

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