We conquered the flu- threw it out with the trash, lysoled every square inch of our cottage, did 5 trillions loads of laundry, and craving the outdoors, stole Bryan for a few hours before evening youth group to have some fun.
Or maybe in my head I was set on having fun. As in, We are going to the pumpkin patch before all the over-sized squash rot, breathe some fresh air, maybe take some fun pictures and redeem this holed up week. And it’s going to be fun. And you’re going to like it. See? Smiley face…this is where my kids stare at my wide eyeballs, arched eyebrows, and crazy grin, and roll their eyes.
We pulled up and saw darling families donning boots and plaid shirts and fall hats. They looked like they’d stepped out of a J.C. Crew mag. We? We were a ragamuffin crew. We roll-with-the-punches, and my boys were not color-coordinated, and my hair, well, please don’t look too close. After all, we were going to the pumpkin patch for a family outing, not a photo shoot… but doesn’t it usually lead to that?