I know that it’s early to be going and getting pumpkins, but we don’t like crowds, which leaves us with few good options when it comes to doing fun, seasonal things with Margaret, because if you go at the best time, you’ll be going with everyone else, and then there are crowds. Besides, we were warned that there is nothing sadder than a pumpkin patch on the last weekend in October, which I can see, because it would be a vast wasteland of picked-over pumpkins. Very sad.
Anyway, we went to a pumpkin patch that had many attractions, not least the pumpkins. Margaret went for them first, but seemed somewhat confused by what she was supposed to do with them.
She got amongst them, and then looked to us for some guidance. Which is fair, when you think about it, because I’m not sure what exactly I would think I was supposed to do if I were dropped in the middle of a pumpkin patch.
We patted the pumpkins encouragingly, and she got the idea.
And then after she had touched the pumpkin, she applauded herself. She does that a lot. I don’t think that we need to worry about this kid’s self-esteem.
After experiencing pumpkins red in tooth and claw, she found what was really, in her mind, the hit of the trip: a sewer pipe that was just the right size.
(This is the point at which I stopped taking pictures and ran the length of the pipe to get pictures at the other end. I am very dedicated to your entertainment).
We then spent about a half an hour at each end of the pipe as she ran back and forth. It was apparently the best thing ever. And she didn’t have to duck, but if she got her feet a little bit to the side, she kind of pitched around, which kept her interest.
After the pipe, we went to look at the caged animals they had on display. Margaret looked at the goats,
but spent most of her time climbing the fence, which is not an activity of which her parents approve.
She then began her examination of the pumpkins for sale, starting with somewhat odd ones, mostly because she was fascinated by the tractor which kept driving over to a truck behind this pile of pumpkins.
Then she headed out to look at the pumpkins which were more traditional.
Notice the tongue, which says “I’m concentrating HARD.” It remained out for a while.
Anyway, on to the Margaret-sized pumpkins. We told her she could pick one out. The following pictures are presented without comment.
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