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He didn’t get it.
To be fair (and honest), he didn’t get a lot of things his wife did. And, if he were still being honest, it had always been this way. Even in school. Especially in school. He had learned a long time ago that it was far simpler to go along with whatever it was his wife was up to that he didn’t understand. He’d probably get it later and everyone was happier. And if he didn’t get it, that was alright too.
For now he put it aside and focused on the task at hand: pumpkin carving… without magic. He didn’t really get that either, but the children seemed to enjoy it. Though, in his daughter’s case it was because she liked how squishy and slimy the pumpkin guts were in her fingers – something her little brother found absolutely disgusting – and with his son it was getting to draw pictures on the side of the pumpkins with a marker to show where the design was going to be cut.
They’d already scooped out the innards and his daughter and wife were separating out the pumpkin seeds to toast in the oven while he diligently carved the pumpkins under his son’s watchful eye. He grinned. The muggle way wasn’t too much different from the traditions that he remembered from growing up in a magical household. The difference being that he and his siblings would be watching as their parents did everything with their wands.
Ron may not get a lot of things when it came to doing things the muggle way, but he had to admit that the much more hands-on approach was quite enjoyable. He found himself treasuring this time with his children as they grew. The only sticking point came when they set up the carved pumpkins with their candles…
He’d never get why they had to be electric.
—30—