Farmed Out

Another day, another field trip to the farm. This time we were picking corn, peppers, gourds, and pumpkins. And again, another group of well-behaved kids, this time a class of pre-schoolers.

Added bonus: I got to chauffeur the teacher, who kept calling my daughter by the wrong name... Oh man, you should've seen the look on my daughter's face. Who knew that a four-year-old could shoot daggers out her eyes? Teacher, it's been six weeks, you only have twelve kids in the class. Get the names down!

I'm just about farmed and hayrided out for the season, but I do get to go out there one more time because both kids want to get BIG pumpkins. I could get them at the grocery store for 19 cents a pound, but that's not as much fun as mucking through the mud and pawing through the rotten pumpkins to find a good one.