Awaiting a Face

The pumpkin sits there waiting For its jack-o-lantern face, Which soon enough that orange smoothness It will thus replace. Decisions will be left to both The grandkids and the dad Regarding its expression - Happy, scary, shocked or mad. I won't be there when they begin The scooping of the seeds But hope they're toasted, a tradition Nana always heeds. Next Friday, when we babysit, I'll see what they have made, Which may be in the garbage Or, I'm hoping, still displayed.