By Danni Koko
The fall semester is here, and if you live in certain corners of the country, you can probably guess what the autumn field trip is going to be before the permission slip even comes home in your child’s schoolbag. That’s right, it’s everyone’s perennial favorite: the trip to the pumpkin patch.
“Of course,” you think when you see the permission slip. What could be more seasonally appropriate than a trip to a farm?
You feel nostalgic. The experience of Being on a Farm is a classic field trip, a childhood rite of passage.
And besides, in my memory the pumpkin patch is superior to some of the alternative farm experiences out there. I recall one elementary school field trip where my class was lined up by a barn, at which point each of us was required to take a turn milking the cow. I’m not exaggerating that this was one of the low points in my life. Although farm life may not be for me, I must admit that the pumpkin patch is a destination most parents can handle.
Reading over the permission slip, you see that a few chaperones are needed on this year’s outing. “Fun!” you think, “I love field trips!” Thus, you prepare to don your best flannel and embark on the various stages of pumpkin picking.
Phase 1: The Prep
With the anticipation of cooler weather, your child goes to school with the signed permission slip and, of course, the money. You realize by now that the chaperone pays for the field trip too, as if the adults are getting as much out of the field trip as the children. The price of visiting the pumpkin patch has gone up, but you’re willing to pay that price for the sake of giving your child the experience of Being on a Farm.
As the time for pumpkin picking draws closer, you start to think through the logistics of the day. Any parent who has neglected to bring a bag to carry your pumpkins has learned that you will seriously regret this oversight, and you are not about to make the same mistake twice.
So this time you know it’s up to you to decide on a bag that’s just the right size, then it’s on to more important matters. The entire fate of this field trip rests on your ability to come up with the perfect outfit, so it’s best to start anticipating what you will wear at least a week ahead of time. It has to be practical (you are going to a farm, after all) but also cute enough to look okay in pictures. You will need to plan out what you and your child will wear, down to industrial grade footwear, because inevitably it rains the night before your outing, and the fields like to be as muddy as possible to give you the full experience of Being on a Farm.
Of course, you already have the perfect flannel shirt. But you struggle to decide which pants to wear. Jeans? Leggings? You go for the most comfortable option because, you know, you’re a mom.
And thus, layered to perfection to protect against the frigid conditions of the early October morning, you embark on your outing with excitement and anticipation.
Phase 2: Reality
You arrive at the farm and are immediately directed to park in the grass. Parking in the grass shows you that you’re getting the real experience of Being on a Farm, since a paved lot would remind you that you are, in fact, only 15 minutes from home. Once parked, you know where to go because there is a big sign that says “U-Pick.” I don’t know exactly why, but this term has always felt irksome to me. Like it’s bossing you around in baby talk, insisting that you must personally pick a pumpkin or apples or blueberries or whatever is in season or you won’t be allowed back for next year’s field trip.
As everyone arrives, one of the teachers rounds up the parents and kids into a big group, and someone who works on the farm places rickety ladders next to large wooden wagons so that everyone can pile in precariously. Sometimes the wagons are pulled by tractors and sometimes they’re pulled by horses, but everyone wants to ride in the wagon pulled by horses, because it’s a way more fun and authentic experience to have animals leading the way. The seats are rather uncomfortable and lined with hay that tickles you and pricks you through your clothing, which again, is part of the experience. Your little one gets jostled throughout the bumpy ride, and you hold on tight. You make a lap around the farm, which seems cool to young kids for about five minutes, then they start getting restless and asking when you’ll be there. “Where are the pumpkins?” they whine. Moms take a few pictures so they have proof that the kids were on a field trip and, besides, when you’re wearing matching flannel you need to memorialize the occasion.
When you finally arrive at the pumpkin patch, everyone piles out of the wagon, only now, everyone’s butts are covered in hay. “Why did I wear this fabric?” you wonder.
Your kid runs to the patch and promptly trips over the gnarled vines running every which way, then proceeds to pick out the biggest, ugliest pumpkin available. “No,” you say, “That pumpkin’s a weird shape, and it’s way too heavy to carry.” Your kid looks upset. He had his heart set on the giant pumpkin. You ask yourself why you didn’t bring a sturdier bag.
So you look around some more, and finally you compromise on a pumpkin that’s round, not too heavy, and not too rotted. Then you have to carry said pumpkin around for the rest of the field trip. It’s going to be the parents hauling these babies around, of course, not the children. The pumpkins weigh almost as much as they do.
Next, you snap a few pics of you and your child holding the pumpkin because, despite the fact that you buy produce at the store every week, you feel compelled to capture this particular moment with this particular pumpkin because one day, when your child forgets about this field trip, you’ll want to remind him that you did indeed provide him with the classic experience of Being on a Farm. You’re interrupted by another child in need of help because inevitably someone’s bag has broken, and since you didn’t anticipate needing an extra bag, you end up carrying that child’s pumpkin around too.
At this point, everyone is getting uncomfortable because, despite your anticipation that it’s going to be a crisp fall day, it’s inevitably very, very hot. At least it feels that way because everyone wore way too many layers. Plus, there is NO shade in the pumpkin patch, so everyone is burning up under their flannel shirts and fleece jackets. You wonder how you got your wardrobe so wrong. You prepped what you’d wear for a week, after all.
Finally, panic sets in. The teacher is rounding everyone up, but your kid is stuck with his feet buried beneath some giant pumpkin vines, and he’s afraid to move. The vines are prickly. They’re gnarled. They’re covered in mud. Why do you always forget how perilous the pumpkin patch really is? Finally, you extricate your child from the vines of the pumpkin field and, relieved, return to the wagons. Time for some apple cider!
Phase 3: The Departure
When you leave the pumpkin patch, it’s time for yet another wagon ride, this time back to the entrance of the farm where there are usually pumpkins in large bins available for sale to the public. You suppose you could have saved yourselves the trip and chosen one of the pumpkins near the entrance, but what fun would that be? Also, this is where you pay extra for your kid’s pumpkin, because he’s picked out a large one that yields a higher price than the standard “small pumpkin” that came with the cost of the field trip.
After enjoying a small snack and several spilled apple ciders knocked out of lightweight plastic cups, the children spend the remainder of the field trip running around and exploring the little farm-themed activities that are scattered around the picnic table area. Meanwhile, the adults peruse the fall items for sale, which usually include wreaths that smell like cinnamon and oddly shaped gourds. Typically by this point, it’s gone from really hot to really cold. The sky has grayed over, it’s getting windy, and everyone is tired.
As you leave the farm, you take one final glance at the U-Pick sign. You feel like it’s laughing at you saying “U-got taken for a ride,” literally and figuratively.
On my last field trip, this is the point where we broke down. As in, the bus actually broke down as we attempted to exit the parking lot. The driver kept turning the key, and turning the key, and turning the key. The look in her eyes said, I’m so sorry. She knew she was stranded at a pumpkin patch with a class of kindergarteners, and she was not taking this lightly. The teachers were professional and kept the kids busy with songs and games, but when the new school bus rolled into the parking lot to rescue us, we all breathed a sigh of relief.
In this final leg of the field trip, all the little ones want to hold their own pumpkins on the bus, but of course their hands are far too small to hold such a large piece of vegetation. You know that nursery rhyme Five Little Pumpkins? “So we rolled and rolled and rolled.” And that is precisely what everyone’s pumpkins will do the entire ride.
Phase 4: The Aftermath
Happily, after rolling up and down the floor of the bus no fewer than 20 times, your child’s pumpkin makes it home, as do you. Your child wants to carve the pumpkin. Some parents boldly embrace this challenge. I do not.
“How about you can draw a face on your pumpkin with black marker?”
I never claimed to be a fun mom, but I think my kid will survive.
Sometime after Halloween, you will realize you never cooked the pumpkin. It will be rotting, and you will throw it away, grateful for the fun faces it made on your front porch next to your wooden sign that says “Harvest.” You will place the pumpkin in a trash bag and throw it into the garbage barrel, and this time, the sturdiness of the bag really doesn’t matter. In your mind, you’ve already moved onto Christmas decorating, though you have a vague memory that you did fun fall things when it was in season to do so. For now, you’re grateful that you’re no longer finding hay in your laundry. Until next year, pumpkin patch.
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