With Austen’s softball season eating up most weekends this fall we had to squeeze in our annual pumpkin patch trip last Saturday. We all pile into the car and head out to Homestead Farm in Poolesville, Md. When we left the weather was nice, but about 10 minutes from the patch it opened up. We were too close to return home and go on Sunday. So we braved it. You could call that a mistake.
We all had coats with hoods, all except Mommy. Mommy had on a Polartec that was putting a ShamWow to shame with all the rain it was soaking up. The owner of the farm told us if we wanted to walk out to the patch he’d give us a trash bag to wear. (Cue Austen recoiling in fashion killing horror)
Mommy was the hero, she wore the trash bag over her now sponge-like Polartec. The sight of Mommy in a trash bag suit trudging out to the patch was too much for our 10yr old diva, “I will not be seen walking with Mommy in that.” And with that she stomped off a good 20 feet ahead of the rest of us.
So we straggle into the patch, in the rain, and there we see a bunch of pumpkins that look exactly like the ones already picked back at the main farm building. Hhhhmmm? . . . let’s see, I could have just bought the exact same pumpkins without getting soaked . . . why am I standing in a field? . . . did I mention the wind picked up and the rain, which is now pouring, is coming down sideways . . . did I mention that? “Hey Dad, over here, (way over here) this is the one I want.” Okay sez I, bending my 3 herniated-disc-surgery- having-old-ass-back down to lift. I take, oh a few (hundred) steps to put said pumpkin prize into the wagon when I hear the following, “Uh, I think I like this one better.” Get the picture?
Of course now Daddy has to slog the three 1-ton pumpkins back to the main building. Funny how that wheelbarrow seemed fairly light on the way out now seemed slightly heavy. Did I mention the rain coming down sideways? At this point the main building seemed to take 2 steps away from every 1 step I took towards it. My neck is so tight from holding up the wheelbarrow that I’m starting to resemble The Incredible Hulk. It’s here, with the sideways rain that Miss 10yr old Fashion Sense knuckles under and says, “Give me that trash bag.” Several hours later (OK, maybe 10 minutes) we were able to finally cover the 300 yards from the patch to the main building. There, I had the pleasure of lifting ALL of the pumpkins once again onto the scales. One more rain soaked slog to the car (did I mention it came down sideways?) to lift the pumpkins yet again and we were done.
Pumpkins selected, hauled, paid for and in the car. We’re all soaked to the bone and we’re looking at at least a 40 minute ride home. Now I DON”T do wet clothes, never had never will. (Cue the embarrassing Dad will do anything music) No wet jeans for me. Next thing anyone knows I’m driving us home sitting in my spanking new Old Navy boxers.
I can’t wait for next year.