The wind was a-blowin as we pulled up to the old farm and loaded our little guy up into a very nice wagon. So nice of a wagon it was that we were wishing it was our very own. It had great wheels for off-roadin’. And off-roadin’ in a punkin patch is just what, I’m sure, Mr. Bubbers always wanted to do.
Although Bubby was in desperate need of a nap, he tried to be as fascinated as possible with all the new things we had to show him.
I love Autumn. I love pumpkin patches.
They remind me that the year is coming to a close, and that God has blessed me in countless ways all year long…big and small ways.
“Blessed be the Lord, who daily loads us with benefits, even the God of our salvation.” (Psalm 68:19)
While we were at the pumpkin patch, we decided to take Mr. Bubbers on a grand adventure–we introduced him to a corn maze!
To put it mildly, he was elated. He was hoopin and hollerin–he could hardly contain his glee.
Now, you may really love corn mazes, but I have to admit that they are not my favorite. As adventurous as I like to consider myself, I really don’t enjoy being lost.
In fact, I hate being lost. If I were the one leading us through this maze, I would have gotten very angry, and then I would have panicked…
and then I would have started blazing my own trail right through the corn…
and then I would have have gotten more lost and more angry…
…and, well, let’s just be thankful for this man.
Can I just pause and say how much I love this man?! 
He’s a really good leader for me and Bubby. He’s so tender and kind and gentle.
He loves us very well. If every man had a heart of integrity like Brent and if every little boy had a daddy like him, I’m pretty sure the world would be such a happy, lovely place and I would never be afraid for Gideon to grow up.
And besides that, Brent is really good at directions. So, after much meandering through the corn maze…
We finally stepped out into the bleak and barren wasteland of the pumpkin patch.
And Mr. Bubbers quivered in anticipation as an awestruck wonder overtook him, shaking him to the very core.
(Or perhaps he was just shivering from the cold.)
Pumpkins!
There were myriads of them!
And now we had the daunting task of picking one.
Now, if only Dad would just decide.
Bubby tried his hardest to participate.
He suggested a couple of really nice big ones beside the wagon…but Daddy wasn’t convinced.
“You go ahead,” he yawned…
“I’ll just wait right here.”
So Brent continued his search.
And it wasn’t too terribly long before Bubby had to share his wagon with two very big, very beautiful, very bright pumpkins.
“Yep, I’ve inspected the stem…” Gideon surmised,
“Nice and plump around the edge…” he conjectured.
“I think these’ll do just fine, Daddy,” he concluded.
“What’s that? We just need one more? One more really good, perfect one?”
“Oh, brother.”
“Look! There’s one over there! Quick, it’s getting away!”
“Sheesh. My parents never listen to me.”
“Guess I’ll just hang out here with these pumpkins…yep that big one’s still good.”
“Cool! Is that dirt! I wonder if I could just streeetch and get some of that stuff on my finger…then I could just stick it in my mouth…”
Ta-Da! Finally. The pumpkin of all baby pumpkins. Perfect.
(Hmmm…I’m pretty sure Bubby gets his crazy hair from his dad.)
And that, my dear friends, is the story of the pumpkin patch.
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