Pumpkin Patch Day is my favorite-ist day of the year.
No cooking is involved, no presents to buy and the weather is always perfect.
After HUGE thundershowers all day Saturday, we made our annual pilgrimage to the patch, about 40 minutes away.
Yes, as a matter of fact: this is the best I do at chronicalling the children's growth. Don't fucking judge me.
(Pssstt... wanna know a secret? Our mommy makes us have our pictures taken next to these damn pumpkins every damn year and every damn year we throw a damn hissy fit but she doesn't get the damn memo.)
The hay maze was Griffin's favorite this year.
"This is my bay-bee pumpkin."
"But Darwin, it's rotten. Don't you want another pumpkin?"
"No! This is my bay-bee. Mine."
See? Evidence of the rain.
For some reason, this didn't come home with us. Where the fuck did it go?
My favorite this year.
Thank goodness for tractor-pulled hay rides.
An even 100 pounds of pumpkins came home with us.
Now to figure out how they fuck they should be arranged.