These little lovelies are a scant two weeks old. I now present:
The Prince Picks a Pumpkin... Or Four.
"Why, yes, PB, I do think I'll go for a ride in this nice wagon.""This one will do for Mama. No, thanks, I don't want to get out of the wagon. I'm all good in here. You just go where I point.""And this next one is mine, thanks. Nope, still not getting out."
"This one is Papa's. He needs a big pumpkin. No worries, I'll hang on to it."
"This little one is for that kid Mama's holding. Tell him I gots one for him. No worries."
"Oh, yeah, there he is. Good, you didn't leave him out there. No, no, we wouldn't want that. Not at all.""And now I shall tell the lady behind us in line every thing I know about gourds. And not a word of it will be coherent. But she thinks I'm cute, so I'll keep talking." "Papa, did you pay the man? Cause we're ready to go now. I gots all the pumpkins I need right here. Slide on up here, o, and lets blow this pop stand."
And that, folks, is why I have a porch full of pumpkins that I will end up carving in the middle of the night, lest someone scream bloody murder...