P-Patch

Last year we won the Worst Parents Award.  We didn't take our two youngins to the p-patch.  The pumpkin patch that is.  Somehow driving 40 minutes across time just didn't fit into our schedule.  We now lack fall-y type photos of our kids at age 2 and almost 4 crawling on pumpkins.  I don't know how we'll go on.

We knew we couldn't commit the same sin again, so we put it on the calendar and we made the trip.  Little Man compared it to the amount of time it took us to get to the beach.  I think his judgement of elapsed time is a bit off.  Just a little.  Even though it was out there, I'm glad we went.  Where else would kids from Oklahoma get to crawl on pumpkins, ride horses, and feed farm animals?  What's that you say?  Oh yeah.  Aside from the pumpkins they do the above activities at any festival in the Midwest.  Sheesh.  What was I thinking?  We're country folk.

Actually, we're not country folk. The smell of manure and flies were not comforting.  It was actually grossing me out.  Not to mention the animals with their gigantically long tongues lopping out to slime my kids' hands as they held out the overpriced feed.  And the alpacas.  Well,  Little Miss and Man were not going anywhere near those things.  I hear they spit.  Not my idea of a good time.  So I, the controlling mother, lovingly told the kids to watch out or they'd get a loogie in their eye.  This led to the description of a loogie.  Yep, I'm certain the kids won't be going near an alpaca anytime soon.  I feel my job as a mother is now complete.

Now onto the photos because I love showing my kids off.  They are, after all, the cutest things ever.  Somehow the mix of Puerto Rican and Swedish genes go well together.  Who knew?