Pumpkin Patch

I remember going to pick out a pumpkin with my dad when I was a little girl. I think I made him dig through about 22 pumpkins before I agreed on which one was "perfect."



Jakob had mentioned seeing a pumpkin patch in Sherman Oaks, so we took Cooper.



They had apple cider, kettle corn and a pro pumpkin carver.



Coop sat still in the wagon for about 17 seconds. Then I had to make him get out because he kept wanting to stand as we wheeled around...such a lil' devil.



Cooper was very into the warty gourds. We purchased his favorite--a wee bumpy green one. We named him Warty Gordon McGourd. Cooper spent several minutes trying to pick the warts off Gordon. Who woulda thought that a gourd could be so fun?



Drum roll please...I am officially an old woman. I had WAY more fun in the pumpkin patch with my toddler than I did at Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios.



I thought I was still "hip" and maybe even "with it." But the maximum capacity crowd, the 80+ minute wait for every attraction, the endless amounts of fog being pumped at my eyes, the continuous loud screaming, the same Rob Zombie song playing over and over, the doods chasing you with chainsaws, the doods squirting you with water, the doods snorting in your ear and the doods stabbing you with fake knives was just annoying to me. My body is tensing up just thinking about it.



That place was for teenagers who want to drink a bunch on Boones and then be scared and cling to each other and then later go make out in a Ralph's parking lot.



The pumpkin patch was much more my speed.