Pick a peck of pickled...

Pumpkins. A few weeks ago we visited the pumpkin patch at Alamo Heights Methodist Church (or the Methodome, as we like to call it). The field was full of pumpkins of all sizes, as well as gourds, and the occassional haystack. Sounds fairly innocuous, right? We thought so, too.

Until Monkey Boy showed up, that is. Emma's not exactly fond of boys her age, which I can't begrudge her, since several of them have shoved her to the ground, unprovoked. But if there's anything that scares her more than boys, it's boys dressed in monkey suits. A rarety, to be sure, but there happened to be one at the pumpkin patch.

If he'd just kept his distance, we'd have been fine, I think. But he seemed to like her just as much as she despised him. He followed us everywhere we went, causing much shrieking on the part of our daughter. We kept trying to assure her that it was just a little boy in a monkey costume, but that wasn't comforting to her.

So we cut our tour short, since it was hard to take quality pictures between consoling a traumatized little girl and avoiding a furry attack-monkey. (I will say, we got a good laugh when Monkey Boy tripped and fell, and his mom rushed over to him...not to help him up, but to take his picture! You can see her priorities were in the right place!)


Maybe next year we'll just go see the pumpkins at Wal-Mart...