Pumpkin Patch Tricks and Treats

Pumpkins Are the Key

My oldest granddaughter, the one I’ve been calling Bean all these years, is now a string bean. She’s seven and a half and tall and active, both in her body and in her mind. Several of her favorite things to do at Halloween happen – or begin – with a visit to the local Pumpkin Patch.

There’s something about people who grow pumpkins. The child in them comes out this time of year. Pumpkin slides, pumpkin tubes, pumpkin pyramids, corn mazes, trains . . . they build it and we will come.

Easy Peasy

This year Bean’s favorite was the tall black rubber ribbed tubes. You climb on piled up hay bales to the top, then climb in to the tube and – in the dark – slide to the bottom going bump bump bump all the way. Last year Bean was still a bit nervous, and mostly stuck to the large diameter tubes where she could see all the way through. With the smaller tubes she sat at the top for a while, mustering her courage, then went in feet first. This year it was up the haystacks and in, head first and squealing for joy. She ran around so fast and was having so much fun I completely forgot to take out my phone and capture a picture.

The Corn Maze is still a Challenge.

Seven is a sea change year for many children. Bean and I have visited the same pumpkin patch every October since she was three. Not much about the pumpkin patch has changed. But lots about Bean has changed. At three she just selected a pumpkin and wandered around a bit, looking at things. At four she was curious, dragging me from one pumpkin to another, tentatively climbing the haystack pyramid and climbing into the shortest rubber tube. At five and six she raced happily from one entertainment to another. And this year, as long as we stuck to the pumpkins she was assertive, confident, and gleeful. I loved it.

Then she asked me to go with her through the Corn Maze. There here new -found confidence wavered a bit. She was doing ok until we got way past the middle, where we both expected to see a big open square, or some kind of prize, and by the time we were nearly all the way across the maze and had no clue how to get back, she was getting a little nervous. Grandma – that’s me – pointed out that if we yelled really loudly, the guy who we gave our money to would be able to hear us and come to our rescue. So that helped. She kept trying new routes until we finally found the exit.

But then, feeling safe again, this new assertive kid marched righ up to the man who had collected our money and asked him about that big square in the middle we had been sure we were going to find. “Nah,” he said, “it’s just kind of random. But that’s a good idea!”

Maybe next year.