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October 15th. I made it all the way to October 15th before the smell of pumpkin assaulted my poor, innocent face.

Every year I desperately hide, and every year I get hit with a pumpkin spice brick to the face.

I’ve avoided stores and restaurants for two weeks, desperate not to be forced into smiling while people set out to convince me that pumpkin is the tastiest treat ever – encouraging me to try the special menu item with an intensity that is usually only seen in a cult. Heaven forbid I express my thoughts about pumpkin to a stranger. It would be more socially acceptable to kick a puppy than declare my dislike of pumpkin in public. Unfortunately Lola had a vet appointment this week and I got a bit snackish while out and about. I pulled up to the McDonald’s drive through and rolled down my window to order… and my nose was punched by the odor.

That orange gourd is a menace to society!

This year has been particularly pumpkin-y – so much so that I’ve avoided visiting my friends’ homes for the past month. Some of them are positively giddy when pumpkin season hits and immediately douse their entire house in the scent. If that friend happens to have a pumpkin loving neighbor, the whole neighborhood becomes a biohazard.

If you need me, I’ll be hiding until November 15th – when pumpkins are swiftly replaced by ginger and cinnamon.

A image of a menacing pumpkin smiling with the quote 'By the end of autumn, I'll have infiltrated all of your homes.'

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