Most years, I am a super lame mom, and
a) don't let my kids touch the big pumpkin that I dished out 5 gigantor dollars for
and
b) buy them the teeny tiny punkins and hand them a sharpie, cause all that gutting and cutting is just a pain in the you know what.
Also, pumpkin carving is way less of a drag when your son is old enough to do his own. Except the gutting. He couldn't stomach the pumpkin innards. His says Bo and has a lightning bolt under the O. Just in case you were wondering what kind of delinquent defacement I allowed my gangsta son to perform. Nothing says gangsta like "Mama, I. really. can't. stand. the. squishy. *shiver* feeling. of. the. ug. inside. of. oooooh. this. pumpkin."