Attack of the pumpkin

For Halloween, I had been given a 30 pound pumpkin to carve. It turned out so well, we used it as part of our indoor decor, but yesterday, being trashday, I decided that it had to go out to the curb.
I was ready to leave for my trek to work, purse slung over my shoulder, jacket on, and pumpkin in hand, when it happened... Opening the door I began navigating my way down the stairs, which are very steep and designed for mountain goats, when I swear that pumpkin leapt from my arms! It hurtled against the bottom foyer door with a bang that caused my downstairs neighbor to come running, calling out if I was alright! Pumpkin was everywhere! All over the floor, the walls, the stairs, and yours truly. The only whole piece was its evil grin which mocked me in the cleanup.
Wiping rotting pumpkin from my face , I assured her I was indeed alright, as she reached out and pulled a bit from my hair. Two rolls of paper towels, and soapy water later, I was headed back out for work. Because I ran ( ok I don't actually run, it's more of a lope - faster than a jog , slower then a sprint) part of the way, I made it to work on time - barely.
Standing next to me, Florence delicatley sniffed. Then sniffed again. I ask, with concern if she is coming down with a cold. At almost 80 years of age, a cold is cause for concern. "No, but do you smell pumpkin?"