Actually, it wasn't a bad day at all. It was, however, a warm and humid day.
Like night-patrol-Mekong-Delta-looking-for-Charlie warm and humid.
Not to mention the parade of mom jeans that a class trip to the pumpkin farm apparently entails. Oh the humanity.
Still, I've been wanting to do this with Samson since his school trip last year. And the folks at the farm didn't disappoint. Hayride, petting zoo, brief discussion of agricultural subsidies; this place had it all.
When we got to the actual patch, I totally steered us wrong. For some reason, I thought we didn't need to follow the rest of the class. I thought we might find better and bigger pumpkins in the less-traveled part of the patch [see also Griswold, Clark].
I should have recognized my mistake when Samson and I found ourselves in the company of the crazy overmatched grandma and her three unruly charges. That and the little football shaped prickly things that clung to our clothes.
Anyway, we eventually found our way out of the wilderness and went properly in search of some pumpkins. We even picked one for Jane, which was Sam's idea (sort of).
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