My girls and I had a great time at the pumpkin patch with my dad and my aunt today.  We went to a place that has a lot of fun activities for the kids-- tractors pulling plastic train cars, a kid-friendly haunted barn, the ever-popular duck race (pumping water down a half PVC pipe to push along rubber ducks), and several massive slides made of plastic laid on very large dirt mounds.  The slides created some of my favorite moments of the day, really, because it was an opportunity for my kids to be uniquely themselves.  Ladybug's approach?  To refuse to go down when called and instead find a knothole in the fence to peep through, not because she was afraid, but because she was going to do it by her own choice and not because anyone else wanted her to.  Sure enough, when we least expected it, she would come whizzing down on her belly with great enthusiasm!  As for Baby Duck, my father said it best: "She's always trying to circumvent the system whenever she has the chance," as we watched her pick her way up the lumpy dirt hillside rather than follow the predesignated path around to the backside to get to the slide again.  I instantly thought of the tendency my father and I both share to find what my husband refers to as "the Bat Cave" route to any frequent destination.  It may not be any faster; it may even involve navigating confusing residential areas-- but it will always be the better way because it avoids a certain intersection or stretch of road that just rubs us the wrong way.  We just like our way because it flows better in our minds.  Gee, I wonder why Baby Duck wouldn't just follow the gravel and hay like everyone else?
    As a reward to all the grown-ups at the end of the day, we waited patiently for the Pumpkin Master to come prep our favorite part of the day:  the awesome air cannon that launches bowling ball-sized pumpkins across a small pond like a spitball through a straw with the most disgustingly satisfying "PHTHOOT!" followed by the spray of pumpkin innards as it reconnected with the earth.  Heeheehee!  Fun!
    Speaking of pumpkins, the day would not have been complete had the Ladybug not turned into one herself as the clock struck her own personal midnight (read:  ninety minutes past nap time).  But considering she will be two years old this month, can you blame her?  I think we all had a full enough day!

CL