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It’s the Great Pumpkin…NOT! October 13, 2008

Posted by hopeauthority in Autism, Children, Family, humor, Parenting, special needs.
Tags: , , , ,

I love Halloween. I love everything about it. In fact, I should probably live in Salem, Massachusetts.

And what would Halloween be without a trip out east for pick-your-own pumpkins?

So, off we went on this warmer than usual October day, in search of the perfect orange globe. It was our family of 4, plus Nana and Papa, the wagon, and a huge picnic lunch. There was a farm just about every 50 feet it seemed. But I wanted to go to the one where we go for our berries in the summer. They have a corn maze and wagon rides, live music, mums, playsets…

As usual, we got started later than we’d hoped. Is it me? I can never get all the crap packed up in under 2 hours! Especially with ‘C’s special food needs. And it was the last day of the long beautiful holiday weekend. And the excitement was building as we passed all those homeward bound SUVs whose roof rack cornstalks seemed to be waving at us…

Wait, they weren’t waving at us. They were mocking us.

After the eighteenth chorus of “Are we there yet?”, we pulled into the dusty lot to find that… the pumpkins were picked through! Four days of beautiful fall weather and throngs of tourists had ravaged the fields of any worthy contenders. So… could I just settle on finding something acceptable for this year and making the most of the outing? Noooooo. (Mistake number one.)

Family…especially ‘C’ … didn’t appreciate being hustled back into the SUV so quickly to search for a less popular pumpkin patch. We get to another one. It’s worse. (Mistake number 2.) But we get out and try to make the best of it.

It turns out its not a “pick-your-own from the vine where they are growing” place. Oh, no, no…

It’s a “pick-your-own from the pile of pumpkins they trucked in from some other freakin state and just dumped haphazardly on this hill as if they grew here and no one would notice” kind of place! Ok, take a deep breath. At least I didn’t have to worry about the inlaws tripping over vines and re-breaking their hip and leg, respectively.

‘C’ unfortunately, was not as into this adventure as I’d hoped. So, while the rest of the family picked out lame pumpkins, I spent the time there with him alternating between the goats’ and turkeys’ pens and the makeshift market for organic veggies, where we repeatedly walked up and down each aisle naming the 20 varieties for sale. Maybe it wasn’t his autism that caused this detachment. Maybe he is genetically as into Halloween as his mom and he was just as disappointed in the pickins’.

Well, we didn’t get the Great Pumpkin this year. We got some crappy, imported versions. And we got some gourds. And some mums. But, we did not  get any cornstalks. Oh, no. There will be no cornstalks.

We will not be mocked.



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