I asked me husband earlier what I should blog about, and he suggested, “How about the pumpkin patch?”
I replied that nothing really *happened* there, and it would be a boring blog post something like, “We went to the pumpkin patch along with half the Mid-Columbia this last weekend.”
He looked at me and informed me this was the reason he doesn’t have a blog and that I do.
Then, it dawned on me that I HAD successfully pushed out of my head what had happened. It is a painful memory. There might be tears as I rehash it here.
So, we made the annual trek with friends to the pumpkin patch at Country Mercantile north of Pasco this last weekend. Before having kids, it wasn’t something I particularly noticed. However, starting when my son was around 3 months old, we made it an annual tradition. This was our fourth year.
We admired the ponies being setup and then went in and ate lunch at the end of our trip. My son repeatedly asked for a pony ride, even decided that eating his entire lunch might just help out his case. My husband and I agreed that he would take our son to the pony ride and let him ride while I took our daughter (so that hopefully she would be none the wiser about this thing called a pony ride -- the thought of the tantrum she would throw was just more than I could handle) to the car to change her diaper and get things put away.
About 10 minutes later, they returned to the car and my son looked different.
“Where are his glasses?” I asked.
My husband sighed, “In my pocket.”
“Oh, did you take them off for the ride?” I inquired.
He then pulled out his glasses in pieces.
Apparently, they fell off my son’s face while riding and were stepped on by a pony.
A whole six weeks of glasses wearing and the glasses are kaput. It is going to be a long and expensive 14 or so years of glasses wearing.