I realize I’m a day late for pumpkin patch season since October is officially over, but it seems that’s how things go for me these days, just a day late.
I love fall. It’s my favorite season, by far. The leaves, the sweaters and boots, hot cider, the fire, apples, and of course, pumpkins.
I always have high expectations of making beautiful memories with our kids which involve all of the above. Everyone is smiling in these scenarios while laughing, dipping apples in caramel, and carving beautiful artwork into the perfect pumpkins we so carefully picked out at the pumpkin farm.
Truth be told, this was supposed to be my first year at the pumpkin patch. Andy usually goes with the kids on their field trips. In years past, the kids have gone with their grandparents, so there has never been a need for me to step in that muddy old patch. Plans changed this year and the kids were anxious to go. We had a free Saturday with the younger two so it seemed just right.
Unfortunately, we woke up to a downpour, we’re talking sheets of rain. But this is Seattle, after all, so rain doesn’t keep us from making memories. It’s all the other mishaps that came in our way. Josie’s rain boots had holes in them, which I didn’t remember until we were on our way. A quick trip to Walmart would take care of that. Well, not so fast. They were fresh out. We figured we’d pick up an umbrella while we were there.
“I guarantee this umbrella will be broken by the end of the day,” Andy said as he ripped the tags off. Not more than two minutes later, a gust of wind flipped that umbrella inside out, as if on cue.
This was one of many signs that seemed to say, “Today just isn’t your day. Don’t go.” But we had talked up the pumpkin patch and we were going.
We left a second shoe store paying more for a pair of rain boots than I thought reasonable (see previous post for my idea of reasonable). They were the only pair in Josie’s size and happened to be the most expensive. I walked outside, still in a daze at what I had paid for a tiny pair of boots. I was jolted by watching Andy wrestling with our new umbrella which had been turned inside out by the wind, yet again.
After the walk to the car, Andy and I exchanged one of those “are you thinking what I’m thinking?” looks. And with out a word it was decided. There was no way we were going to a pumpkin patch and that’s all there was to it.
Much explanation and reasoning with Judah and Josie followed. But to be honest, it really didn’t take much convincing. There was the promise of lunch out, homemade caramel apples, hot cocoa and pumpkins from a different kind of pumpkin patch called Safeway.
The caramel was another disaster. I should have bought those little Kraft caramels and took the time to unwrap each one, stick them in the microwave and call it good. But no, I tried to get all “Martha Stewart” with the homemade caramel and it just wasn’t my day. We’ll leave it at that.
The
end of the night left us with beautiful Safeway pumpkins, hot cocoa
with too many marshmallows, and sliced up apples dipped in runny
caramel. The carving was left for another night when the older boys were
with us and we would find ourselves in another debacle because of a
lack of proper tools. Just makin’ more memories!
Popsicle sticks were nowhere to be found. Silly straws seemed like a good idea. In the end, completely unnecessary. Oh the plans I had for those apples… |