Pumpkin, pumpkin, pumpkin

Today Curt and I decided to get the younger two out of the house and head over to the local farm for a hay ride and to pick some pumpkins. I was kind of missing the older kids, who were with bio-dad, and as we climbed on to the hay bales and set off through the fields I started giggling thinking about a joke Brett had told me.

"There were these three robbers who were running from the cops and found themselves hiding out on a farm. The cops were catching up to them so the first robber told the other two to split up and hide among the farm and just to act natural. The first robber hid himself in a chicken coop and when the cops walked by he said 'Bwaack, bwaack, bwaaaack, bwack!' like a chicken and the cops moved on. The second robber hid himself with the pigs and when the cops walked by him he said 'Oink, oink, oink.' Then the cops walked by a big field of vegetables and heard 'Potato, potato, potato'."

Brett must have told me that corny joke three times last week, each time laughing a little bit harder at the punch line and each time I would giggle; not at the joke, but at Brett finding such bad humor so funny.

So riding across the farm today, in my head I heard 'Pumpkin, pumpkin, pumkin.' I'll have to remember to thank him later.

At any rate, the trip was a success and after much wandering through the patch Evan found the perfect little pumkin that he'd been looking for. I was suprised he didn't ask to sleep with it when we put him to bed.