I have never picked a pumpkin. I don’t particularly like pumpkin so there has never been a need to. But having a child means you have
an excuse a
I had a romantic vision of fields full of autumnal colours, neat rows of pumpkins, and happy children skipping among them. The reality was very, very, different. Now, I have only watched 2 horror movies in my life and both of those were by mistake. I genuinely believed that Candy Man was going to be a movie with John Candy in it (you remember Uncle Buck right?), and the scene before me reminded me of the only other one I watched – Children of the Corn. If a child had jumped out on me wearing a brimmed hat I would have run off screaming – possibly remembering to take my child with me!
We were on our own, it was grey, misty and everything looked a bit bleak. Despite trying to be rational – it was just a film – I was on edge. There were no rows – that I could work out anyway – and for most parts we found ourselves climbing over spiky leaves and bracken to get to the pumpkins that were left. It didn’t deter H though. We were there AGES! They were either too spikey, too yucky, too small, too heavy, too dirty, too green or too square.
He took it very seriously, even removing his coat because it was getting in his way. I had to carry the camera, the camera bag, his coat, my handbag, and the pumpkins that were in the running for selection. After much consideration – and cajoling from me – he picked up one he was happy with and we were off. Will I go pumpkin picking again next year? Probably. Will I go on a nicer day and with company? Definitely!
Harry’s Honest Mummy x