Pumpkin Carving: A Personality Indicator?

Michelle Momper

Men are supposedly from Mars, and women are from Venus. Right-brain people are creative, left-brainers are accountants. There are so many generalizations about the makeup of humans. So I’m going to add one more litmus test for defining major personality differences, and it is (wait for it): Pumpkin carving.

Okay, before you dismiss my theory, think about it. When it comes to preparing for Halloween and the Fall season, there are those of us who wing it, and those of us who make it into brain surgery. Case in point:

Halloween is one of the most beloved holidays in our house, primarily because my son is obsessed with anything spooky, eerie or trick-or-treaty. So every year, we ceremoniously purchase a big pumpkin for each family member, and then have an afternoon with appropriate carving devices and votive candles.

I’m a winging-it sort of carver. I look at the shape of the pumpkin, eye its curves and deformities, and sketch out a fun design. Within minutes I’m good to go. I gut, scrape, carve and am then looking at a final masterpiece within the hour.

My husband, on the other hand, approaches carving pumpkins in a way that I would imagine a rocket scientist would approach an upcoming launch at NASA. Oh yes, there is research involved, with hours spent on the internet, finding the best possible design, hopefully, with actual patterns available. There are hours, even days of deliberations. Which design is best? Which one will make the best impression for trick-or-treaters? Which one will change the world as we know it?

When a decision is finally reached, an entire afternoon must be set aside for the carving event. We must set up a card table outside on the patio to minimize any possible pumpkin-guts contamination within the walls of our home. There must be appropriate motivational music playing, and newspapers are painstakingly aligned on the table and ground to catch the tiniest particles of pumpkin juice spillage on the surrounding areas.

Rulers are used. Design drafts are made. Opinions are sought. “Does this look okay?” “Would it look better on the other side?” And while my entire family has moved on to, say, cleaning up and attending to showers, homework or maybe bedtime, my husband is still at the table, with a pumpkin gleaming and glowing, with perfect clean cut incisions and an inside that could pass a white gloves test. It’s true.

So I wonder what this means? Does it indicate a difference in the sexes, or does it serve as an indicator for distinct personality characteristics (or perhaps disorders)? Does it mean anything at all? I don’t know. What I do know is that on Halloween night, you’ll be able to see three flawed, whimsical pumpkins at our house, and another one that could be featured in a Martha Stewart segment. I’ll let you guess who made it.