Four lines of prose that deal in some way or another with: pumpkins.
The farmers market is having a harvest moon festival tomorrow and we've been asked to decorate our stalls to celebrate the occasion. So we picked our first pumpkin this morning, a twenty-two pound beast, and we'll have a fall display going on at our stand.
I guess it was my fault. But I bet you wouldn't have believed her either! I mean, really, what a load of utter nonsense.
Anyway, can you get pumpkin innards out of my dress or not?