This Pumpkin

Cost me one dollar.  And, my toe.

My toe will never be the same again.

A week ago we went out of town.  On the way home we saw some beautiful looking pumpkins on the side of the road and decided to stop.  We pulled over the car.  I opened the door.  I was attacked by 3,729 ladies on the side of the road each trying to sell me their pumpkin.

Their chosen method of salesmanship?  Get as close to me as possible and shove the pumpkin in my face.  I know, right?  Awesome.  When we get pack to the US I am going to enroll my Little Sojourners as Girl Scouts and teach them this method of selling things (while eating all of their Girl Scout cookies and gaining 375 pounds in the process).  I am then sending them to your house.  I think it will go over well; don't you?

So, as I have 3,729 pumpkins shoved in my face I scan the crowd for the one I want and start negotiating price with the seller.  (By that I mean: I ask the price.  She says $1.  I say, "Sweet!"  She has no idea what I said.  And, I agree to buy her beautiful pumpkin.)  In the meantime, a really diligent saleslady has taken her pumpkin (the biggest of the lot, I'm talking H-U-G-E!) and is holding it with one hand through the crack between the door and the car.  It is apparently too heavy and she drops it from above my head onto my toe.

Don't worry the pumpkin didn't break!