And It's Only 8:54

My morning started off with a bang.
You see, it's been a teensy bit warm here. Unseasonably warm, as the weather man says. Throw in humidity at 215%.
Guess what HOT, humid weather does to carved pumpkins?
They rot.
Quickly.
We had the "threat" of strong storms last night, so the boy felt it necessary to secure his pumpkin in the garage. So it didn't get blown over and smashed.

This morning, I had to get up extra early to take Dan/Daddy to his physical therapy appointment. Remember? Knee surgery.

Let me just assure you that the smell of rotting pumpkin in a closed up garage is not the thing you want to be smelling at 7:00 in the morning.
I managed to get it to the front porch before my hand went through the bottom of it. Good times.

I dropped Dan/Daddy off at therapy, came home and made the boy's lunch, and then enlisted his help in the Great Pumpkin Disposal of 2010.
You see, it's garbage day. And I had to beat the garbage truck.
(And we have a lot of pumpkins.)

So we held our breath, grabbed a trash bag, and pitched the rotten pumpkins.
And gagged the whole time. Then the boy laid down a toxic layer of Lysol. The garage was actually foggy.

I took the boy to school, picked up Dan/Daddy, made his breakfast, and then took him to work. Now I have to wash down the garage floor, go to another appointment, pick up Dan/Daddy, pick up the boy, take Dan/Daddy to a dentist appointment, and then take the boy to soccer.
Oh. And find something for Dan/Daddy and myself to wear to a costume party Friday night.
(Somebody needs to tell the man he just had surgery.)

I wanted us to go as pirates, but I think I will just go as a tired old woman. With stinky pumpkin guts on her hands. Who smells like Lysol.