Well, we did it. We survived another pumpkin patch extravaganza. Us with our crisp fall weather, and delusionally optimistic outlook. By the end we are usually pitching the pumpkins into the back of the car and dragging our dirt covered (often screaming) kids from the hay-bale labrynth. It is the sick and twisted side of my personality that stifled a giggle as a fuming Jodie comes storming up with her daughter who tried (almost successfully, I might add) to scale the barbed wire fence – trying to make a hasty pumpkin-patch escape, no doubt. Stella insisted on bringing home 5 different squash that she will later refuse to eat. Porter, miraculously wore closed-toed shoes. All in all, I’d say it was not different than any other year.
