The Pumpkin Patch

Last Sunday was the first day that it felt like fall in Atlanta. It was a crisp 65 degrees outside, and that weather calls for a trip to the pumpkin patch. The boys were dressed for the occasion, thanks to Nanna. Henry was far more interested in the farm animals, tractors, and hay bales than the pumpkins. I told him that he could pick out any pumpkin that he wanted. He ran to the closest bin of pumpkins and picked the first one his hand touched. A true boy. John had his hands and mouth all over the pumpkins. And the hay, wood chips, and sticks. Poor baby is cutting his first tooth, and apparently gourds help relieve the pain.