An open letter from your pumpkin, which is actually a fruit, not a vegetable

Hey there, friend.

We’ve just met but I’m your pumpkin. Maybe you bought be at the grocery store or at the produce stand down the block. Maybe you found me in a patch amongst many other pumpkins. And you chose me. I’m really happy about that.

I’m not too big. I’m heavy. I’m round. I’m orange. I look so cute on your doorstep or window sill or dining room table surrounded by other decorative gourds.

But something you said, sometime between the cash register and loading up the car, made me feel very confused. You mentioned that pumpkins are your favorite fall vegetable.

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But I’m a fruit. I have always been a fruit. A deeply misunderstood fruit.

Clearly.

It really hurts my feelings that you would be so lackadaisical with your food labels. For underneath this hard, orange shell is a soft interior that begs to be noticed and loved for what it is.

Frankly, my fruit status has been apparent for a while now.

I contain seeds. I am sweet.

In a week or two, you might scoop me out and cook my seeds with salt and herbs, leaving my fleshy body, cut in creative shapes, to rot on your doorstep. Pretty hard to think about now that it’s coming from me, huh?

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My point is, don’t let the salty goodness of my seeds -- which, I agree, are delectable -- fool you. I have been, and always will be, a fruit.

I may not look sweet, but underneath this tough exterior is a sensitive produce begging to be pie. Or perhaps combined into a cheesecake. Doesn’t that sound nice?

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I’m not telling you how to live your life. Just think of it as food for thought.

That’s just a little produce humor for you there. I’m a clever little squash.

Happy fall, Signed, Your pumpkin.

P.S. I have no idea where pumpkin spice came from but it has nothing to do with me. Just stop.

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