In true southern California style, we braved the 90+ degree temperatures last month and headed to the pumpkin patch. Because the calendar said it’s now fall and time for fall activities. Even if we have to do those fall activities while still in our tank tops and flip flops. Because that is life lived in an area with only two seasons: summer and a little bit less summer. It’s hard, but someone’s gotta do it.
My crew at the punkin patch.
We still make Mikey ride the kiddie train. And he loves it. Not really, but he’s a good sport.
We make them all go because he loves it.
He also loves the giant slides. While watching him go down gives me definite pause. And many white hairs to add to my collection.
It doesn’t appear that he inherited my strong inclination towards self-preservation.
The girls didn’t either.
We moved on to peruse the pumpkins. And ended up not buying any since it was still early October and we had plenty of time, so I thought. (This will factor in to a future story I will be telling sometime in the, uh, future.)
Strumming that squash like a guitar.
He found the one his heart loved.
He even treated it to its own special wagon ride. But alas, we made him break up with it and leave it behind.
Ah young love though. Quickly replaced by a pony ride.
We only have two left who haven’t decided that they are too old for pony rides. Sniff.
How tall this fall, y’all?
Can’t forget the daddy.
My big kid. Maybe a little bit too old for pumpkin patches now, but still manages to have a great time, anyway.
Thankfully he’s not too old for some good ol’ bounce house fun.
Still my two babies, even while they’re all sweaty and grimy from running and bouncing and frolicking.
