Gourds

12 Oct

We have never been to a pumpkin patch.  We have never had fall charming pictures involving orange and straw colors.  I feel like a bad mom, mostly because of the missed photo ops that I see from billions of other people.

So last night I took the children with my friend Chie and her boys to the Yuma Pumpkin Patch.

If you have a chance, I would not recommend the activity.  There is a level you expect for things.  Then there is the lower Yuma level.  We did have to pay to get in, so I hoped it just wouldn’t be terrible.  It was so sad.  Worse than a school carnival, despite being a gigantic many months production.

Chie finally said something about the ghetto-ness.  I was overjoyed that I was not alone.  This improved things.  There were, theoretically, eight stations to do pirate related activities at.  Let me tell you about just one–Dress the Pirate.  Four scarecrow type figures in a little stall (already clothed).

I say to teen attendant, “So what do we do?”

“You know, dress them up.”

“Like take their clothes off and change it around?”

He looked at me, then at the figures, then said, “I guess?”

So Cole moved a hat from one thing to another, got his stamp, and we moved on.

There was a maze.  Cole and Kenji were fierce Older Boys running ahead in the pitch black with their (genius mom moment here) glow in the dark necklaces.

There was also a pirate stage show.  It physically hurt me to watch it…for 45 whole minutes.  I’m not actually going to write a description because I would have to reactivate the experience in my brain.

In the car on the way home, Cole tells me, “That was the best stage thing I have ever seen.”  And he was not joking.

And so dear friends, that is why we suffer such things.  Because the children think it is amazing.  And maybe that is a good thing.

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