Field trips seemed to be a bit more fun when I was in school.
Gained some unanticipated Fun Mom points this morning by going on a combo fourth grade / first grade field trip to the pumpkin farm, which had been rescheduled from Monday because it's been raining nonstop here since, oh, September. 2007. Or at least it feels that way.
Cupcake is in the fourth grade and each fourth grader partners up with a first grader as writing buddies. One of the first grade classes is taught by my sister, so I had the opportunity to collect double points for going on a dual field trip.
Did I mention it's been raining since, oh, April? 2004?
Today was the one day this week predicted to be rain free (not cloud free or gloom free, but at least rain free), so the field trip was rescheduled. I put on my schlucking-through-the-mud boots and drove and drove across the river and into another state (what, we don't have any pumpkin farms in our own state?) and got to the pumpkin farm before anyone else, and in fact before they were even open. While I stood in a less muddy spot waiting for the buses to arrive, I saw farmhands scattering mulch and other organic stuff that I didn't have the courage to examine any closer over some of the many goopy spots (remember? raining since July, 1997?) near the entrance to the farm. I waited as one yellow school bus arrived. And then another. And then about fifty more, all piloted by extremely hefty women with tattoos on their ankles, cigarettes in their hands and curses on their lips.
When I got cold I considered getting back in my car and retreating home, but knowing that Fun Mom points don't kick in until the children actually arrive at the field trip destination, I put on another sweatshirt (I travel very heavy in the winter, schlepping coats and jackets of every size and weight in the trunk of the car just in case), and returned to the parking lot to await the little darlings.
Once they arrived, unloaded lunches and water bottles and split into groups, I trailed along after Cupcake and her little friend as they sampled the corn maze and another corn maze, paused briefly to compose the obligatory haiku paeans to pumpkins and corn mazes, and then queued up for the scenic hayride through the pumpkin fields.
The hay was fresh, golden and cozy. The kids cuddled up to make room for everyone. Cupcake and I ended up at the front of the wagon where we could see every bolt, gear and fleck of mud on the tractor.
Have I mentioned that it's been raining since, oh, 1492?
The tractor took off, its eight foot diameter wheels churning through the mud at the perimeter of fields filled with crackling weeds and rotting pumpkins. We could see the tracks gouged in the glop by the enormous wheels, unless we were driving through standing water, in which case we saw waves and maybe even tides. Thank goodness tractors can drive through anything without becoming mired.
The tractor became mired.
The wheels spun, lurching the vehicle to one side. The driver turned, gave us a grin that would have been toothy if he'd had any teeth, and announced that we were stuck and everyone would have to get out and walk. After noting the horrified expressions on the faces of fifty city slickers wearing Uggs, he grinned, winked and started up the tractor with a gigantic lurch.
Remember? Rain since the beginning of time?
Let me give you some valuable advice.
- Don't wear nice clothes to the pumpkin farm.
- Leave the nice shoes at home if you're going to the pumpkin farm.
- Find a coat that's not white if you're visiting the pumpkin farm.
- Don't sit in the front of the hay wagon on the pumpkin farm hayride.
- If you're going to the pumpkin farm and you're riding a tractor and the tractor gets stuck in the mud and has to be lurched free, keep your mouth shut so that once the lurching is finished and you have mud on your coat and face, you don't also have a generous serving of mud in your mouth.
- Bring lots of wet wipes to the pumpkin farm.
Fun Mom Points: well earned and well deserved.
What's your advice on traveling to the pumpkin farm?
