Growing up I never went to a pumpkin patch. Unless you count the one down in our garden. That's where we would go to pick our pumpkins. My parents would grow small ones that we'd carve, as well as gigantic ones that we would stand next to and compare ourselves with. And we'd guess their weight.
Last night Eric, Aspen and I headed to a local pumpkin patch.
"Icky pumpkin!" Aspen said, over and over to this poor sickly pumpkin. It never had a chance.
We took a hayride to the patch. Aspen wouldn't smile at the camera with her daddy. Tough, Roo! You're still cute!
We could have spent hours picking out pumpkins; there were so many to choose from! We ended choosing just three, which are on our front porch until carving time. We will definitely make this a yearly tradition; besides, the pumpkins here are so much cheaper than the ones in the stores. Go farms!