The weather was brilliant a week before Hallowe'en and I had kids who needed something to doooooo. Our annual trip to a pumpkin patch was in order. So we
plotted planned, packed and pranced paraded pirouetted trucked on over.
What I learned at the Punkin Patch:
That it's excruciating trying to get three children to take a decent picture together.
That two trembly, squealing preteens can turn into "I'm too cool for my shirt" in the time it takes to say "cheese."
That I'll probably NEVER get him to stop jumping on the furniture after this.
That a tractor AND train combined is a dream come true.
That little orange balloon poodles are adorable.
That a big black balloon "sword" is obscene. Who can look at this and NOT think, "oh look! I giant inflatable penis!" It's wrong. Wrong, I tell you. And yet balloon people all over the world continue to torture parents by arming eager young battle-hungry boys with this design. To make matters worse, Scout became fascinated with the squeakity sound as he ran his hand up and down, up and down. And I'm still traumatized at the image of him clutching it between his legs so he could open his water bottle with both hands. Surely there is a warrant out for our arrest by now.
That Sprout really isn't into the whole "balloon popping" thing. But it gave me an idea.
That "accidentally" popping a giant inflatable black penis and insisting it was the instability of the design actually works!
I also learned that my kid is weird.
That it can be quite convenient to lock older children into a large hay-filled barn while dealing with Mr. Grumpipants.
That animals are funneh! Even if they do smell like putrid shoe.
That the orange pig is definitely the kewtest animal at the punkin patch.
That Sprout is ten times more athletic than poor Scout.
But that the youngest can outrace them all!
That Chase lasts about two hours at the Punkin Patch before he falls apart. Hugely. But he did last through the painting of this "fwog." I wonder if he was really expecting a scarecrow?
That inevitably, the one who truly CARES about what the face painted picture looks like will get the amateur with the artistic capabilities of a kindergartner. And the one who would be thrilled with anything gets the one who has a basic idea of what she's actually doing with a brush.
That it's so much more fun to meander through a maize maze with good friends!
That . . . . I have nothing to say about this one. ::scratches head::
That the slide on the left hurts your butt.
But the one on the right is fine.
That a 3yo NEVER gets tired of racing down a kickin' black tube with a freaky weird scarecrow on top and mountains of hay to scramble around in most joyfully.
That having older kids rawwwwks!
That a picture can completely change perceptions. Looking at this pic, you'd think, "oh how cute! He's so enthusiastic!" Lies, all lies! He was DESTROYED by this point, and raced away from me (FAR away from me) screeching the whole time that he "cannae fine punkins!!!!!!"
That five hours at a punkin patch, no matter how much it rawks, is just a tiny bit TOO long.
But worth it!
That a 3yo can fall into a deep sleep within 45 seconds of buckling into his carseazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.