It finally feels like fall. After having days that topped 80
degrees in October, it was a relief to have days where temperatures stayed
mostly in the 50s. This past weekend it was time to get out and enjoy the
weather somehow, and I was on a mission to keep my children entertained while
my wife prepared our home for more entertaining.
A Pumpkin Patch and other attractions were available at the Queens Botanical Garden.
After a late morning I managed to herd my children into a van and off we went.
After paying for parking and Garden admission and finding
parking, we made a bee line for the pumpkin patch. My girls wanted pumpkins.
The attendant was a young woman in glasses whose high smiles
and uplifted voice was thick with dramatic artifice, faux-professional and
failing to mask the relish in every new financial kick in the teeth and
bureaucratic inconvenienced layered on.
“I’m sorry, this receipt is for entering the Garden. There
is a separate charge for entering the pumpkin patch…. And do you want to keep
your pumpkins…. There is no re-entry… stroller parking is over there…. Please
turn in your ticket to keep your pumpkin.”
In the end, I paid $17 to enter Queens Botanical Garden and
another $42 to let three little girls pick up three small pumpkins. To be fair,
advanced registration for the pumpkin patch was available online and I could
have saved a few dollars; the attended gushed over the woman ahead of me in
line who had done so. I refused to grumble or grouse and give the attendant the
satisfaction of seeing me mad. I smiled my own high smile and ushered my
children into the fenced-off area filled with pumpkins.
Inside the sanctioned patch area, lines of pumpkins made
walking lanes and pumpkins were massed into different shapes and groupings.
Bales of hay and other decorative displays were spread throughout as well.
Volunteers in neon vests offered to take my picture with my kids, and we
managed to pose for a decent photo.
A young man adorned in platform shoes and an outfit of
leaves greeted us also. He had freckles painted on his face and an umbrella
that was also lined with leaves. He took his photo with some of the other
visitors there and one of our twins saw this and wanted her photo taken with
the spritely personality as well. We patiently awaited our turn. While one of
our kids was too shy, two of them posed for a photo on some bales of hay.
“Smile for Professor Pumpkin,” I told the girls, assigning
this autumnal eccentric young man a name. “Is that OK to call you that?” I
asked him, realizing he hadn’t given us a name and maybe I should check to see
if he offered another.
“I’ll take that,” he said.
Professor Pumpkin showed the patience of a saint, as my
daughter asked to pose for more and more photos. I thanked the young man for
his time and we finally moved one.
While the pumpkins in the patch were relatively small, my
kids were enthralled with the choices they had, and eventually, after they each
chose one they found best, we left the pumpkin patch with our choices.
It would be easy to call this day a rip-off, and paying $42
for three small pumpkins is by most standard measures a massive overpayment.
But what going to the pumpkin patch gave me was time with my children, and that
is priceless. I leave for work when it is still dark and my kids are still
asleep. I see them for dinner and then help put them to bed, and I ask them
about their day while we are trying to eat and get them into pajamas. Most of
my waking hours during the week are spent on things that take my mind off of
the things that matter the most.
The pumpkin patch is a time to enjoy the season and time
with family, and in the end that is time and money well spent.
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