It’s pumpkin day, so I am happy. The farm opens to the public at 10:00. Like most days, we’re on a schedule. Two-year-old Mack will need a nap around 1:00. It’s drizzling and not very warm, but if the weather stays this way and Mack and his five-year-old brother Troy go with the flow, then we can cram a few hours of family fun time into the morning. Tina, my wife, grabs juice boxes and fruit snacks for the boys. I have my 86 cent cup of coffee from McDonalds. We are ready to go.
It’s a thirty minute drive from our subdivision to the farm. It isn’t a picturesque drive through the countryside. It’s a boring landscape except for the last five minutes. But the least of our worries is the view from our Kia Sorrento. Mack is off to a rocky start. This little person has peculiar habits. He likes to carry a spoon and rubber ball wherever we go. And he frequently drops one or the other. He drops the spoon just as we exit the subdivision, and proceeds to shout at us to make it right. Troy reads aloud from one of the half dozen or so books in his lap. He loves to read. He hasn’t yet figured out how to read to himself. So he reads out loud. Loudly. Mack continues to yell at Tina and me, prompting us to holler back at him. This isn’t the happy family experience we had in mind. Suddenly the noise subsides and we are treated to a mostly quiet ride. And then it starts pouring. Tina has a sour look on her face. I know what she’s thinking—maybe we should turn around—but a U-turn isn’t part of the script. We keep going. As we pull into the pumpkin farm, a good tune comes on the radio: “Love Will Find A Way” by Pablo Cruise. The song is unbelievably pleasant. I don’t want to get out of the car until it ends. So I turn up the volume and wait. And then we are ready for fun.
It’s still raining, so there aren’t a lot of people at the farm. Troy and Mack each get to enjoy a pony ride. First Mack, then Troy. I jog alongside the pony in a circle two times trying to get a picture of at least one of our sons having fun, but I fail. So there is not yet photographic evidence that family fun occurred. After the pony rides we catch a hayride to the pumpkin patch. The rain stops and the sun begins to shine. We jump off the wagon to search for pumpkins. There is mud, so the kids are happy. Pumpkins and mud are a guaranteed recipe for fun. I am not a skilled photographer, but I have my eye on a bench that I think will make for a nice picture. After we find our pumpkins, we put the boys and their pumpkins on a bench and capture the happiness. Snap! This is what it’s all about. We have a picture of our boys together, smiling. This becomes a family memory, not only of the rainy-turned-sunny day, but also of our boys being happy and silly. It will also remind us of how Mack likes to keep a sock on one of his hands. He really is a quirky bird. He is an endearing character, which makes it easier to endure the terrible twos. Tina posts the picture to Facebook. The picture is met with approval from the network. Smiles all around. On the return hayride, Tina and I make small talk with a few strangers. A woman grumbles about getting mud on her clothes, but catches herself and changes her tune. She says, tone adjusted, something like: “It’s all about the experience, right?” She’s exactly right. We’re here to have an experience. We want to feel something different. We want some enjoyment in this too often stressful life. A hayride with pumpkins, mud, rain and then sun does the trick just fine. This is a lovely experience. A lovely experience with family. Family fun time makes us happy.
The ride home is uneventful. We stop at a pizzeria to get some slices to go. Once home, we quickly eat lunch so Mack can nap. He shifts into nap mode like a pro. It’s a relief when things go according to plan.
And many days later, as I reflect on our mini-adventure, the Pablo Cruise song remains stuck in my head. That’s okay with me. I don’t mind hearing a song about love again and again and again. The end.