What is it about fall that makes me drag my kids to the "Pumpkin Patch" to take their photos?
I mean every stinkin' year.
I have 9 years of pumpkin patch pictures.
9 years of pumpkin patch scrapbook pages.
And my kids all look alike, so if I don't immediately write down which kid is sitting on the goddamn pumpkin, I'll never figure it out.
It's not even a real pumpkin patch. It's a bunch of crates with already harvested pumpkins on them.
Because October is generally humid & steamy in Corpus Christi, you gotta get to the pumpkin patch early or you will be taking pictures of your kids sitting among slimy rotting vegetables.
Maybe it's because I have a fall fantasy. I imagine crisp, chilly air and warm soup waiting for me at home. I think of long tweed skirts and turtlenecks and boots. I wish for colors and crunching leaves.
The pumpkin patch is as close to fall as we get around here.
It's my favorite fall tradition.
Ugh. I would never survive Corpus Christi. I need me some fall foliage and warm apple cider.
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