One of my classes is Intro to Fiction Writing, a class that is both delicious, like a yellow cake with chocolate frosting, but also intimidating, like a piece of yellow cake with chocolate frosting that has a knife to your throat.
I have had some small victories this week. I have no idea how I was able to finish my first short story on top of everything else. The story is painfully bad, but IT IS DONE, and sometimes that matters more than creating a Pulitzer Prize-worthy feat of literary wonderment. (That almost looks like I meant to type “literary wonderMEAT.” It is now my new lifelong goal to create a piece of literary wondermeat.)
Now that we got that out of the way, let’s talk about a terrible mistake I made this weekend.
The Allen family warmly embraced the season of harvest this weekend by taking our two children to Val’s Veggies Pumpkin Patch and Corn Maze.
You might remember a post about the pumpkin patch from last year, where I lamented my misguided decision to even give the corn maze the time of day. I believe I attributed Satan for its creation.
I wish I could say that after a whole year’s worth of college education, I smartened up. But, alas, this is not the case. I once again agreed to “family fun” in the corn maze, BUT THIS TIME PREGNANT.
The first 15 minutes were actually sort-of fun.
(B.T. is wearing his Halloween costume. He is Leonardo from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. We’ve had a hard time getting him to refrain from wearing it constantly.)
15, maybe 20 minutes, in, we were already having to use trash to appease Baby Ham. I think he was understandably getting tired of all the dead corn, and he was probably also angry that there aren’t restroom facilities inside corn mazes.
We grew even more tired, and Ryan wouldn’t pick me up and carry me.
The maze creators (Satan’s minions, probably) again tried to up the fun ante by placing multiple choice questions about corn in the dead ends of the maze. Except this year, the minions must have been busy with suicide bombings or something because I saw the same question about GMOs in 4 different spots. And this is question 2:
It took us about an hour to find our way out of the maze. AN ENTIRE HOUR. But we made it and I didn’t end up calling 911 so someone could helicopter me out, even though I thought about it.
After a few minutes of recovery, it was time to gather the pumpkins.
This is some sort of all-terrain farm vehicle, but B.T. calls it the pumpkin tractor, because it transports us to the pumpkins.
Baby Ham loved the 2 minute ride so much that he became inconsolably angry the rest of the trip when he was NOT on it.
He spent the entire time we picked out pumpkins like this:
…crying, screaming, angrily pointing to the tractor as it transported other people.
After we managed to get our pumpkins, Baby Ham got another 2 minute ride back, which made him very, very happy. When we again removed him from the tractor, we put him on a bale of hay, where he cried angrily. Being the good parents we are, we soothed him with a small bag of food devoid of nutrition.
As embarrassing as it is to have the only child at the pumpkin patch who won’t stop screaming, it still amused the heck out of Ryan and I because OH MY GOSH who even likes pumpkin tractors that much.
Done with the corn maze, done with homework, and it’s SO TIME to watch something on TV with a totally implausible plot line.