So when I was a young little lad, we always went to the pumpkin patch. Our Dad drug us down there every year while we had to pose for endless pictures and reminisce of stories about when we were (insert age here) and we picked out the biggest pumpkin ever. Until that year of course when an even larger pumpkin was lugged to the car. One of the things I loved the most about the pumpkin patch was the fact that my birthday is on Halloween, and it always seemed to get the festivities started for some reason. Now I told myself when I was younger, standing with my brother and sister, posing for the camera, that I would not ever subject my child to this.
Well. I have subjected my child to this.
So this last Sunday, off we went to the pumpkin patch. J got to experience his first hayride, corn maze, pumpkin bowling and tractor ride. He was in awe of all of it. We picked the perfect little miniture pumpkin for my little pumpkin head, and he didn’t cry once.
The funny part? I didn’t even have to make him pose for a picture. He posed with me. 
Such a ham…..wonder where he got that from? 
