I swore earlier on this year I wouldn’t go to a pumpkin patch with my baby because (and I directly quote myself here), “It’s fucking ridiculous that anyone goes to a place just to take a picture for Instagram”. I even jokingly said to my BabyCentre buddy Dr Mummykins about writing a blog about why I’m not going. However, as with most things in my life, I was quite easily persuaded into going. I resisted for a short time but then realized resistance is futile and I begrudgingly agreed.

Arriving to a full field of cars, I was somewhat surprised at the popularity of such a ridiculous attraction. Realistically, a pumpkin patch is exactly what it says it is (for those lucky people who’ve never been to one) – it’s a patch of land covered in pumpkins. In fact to be more accurate, it’s a patch of land covered in pumpkins that Tescos and Sainsburys don’t want to buy because they are oddly shaped. Let’s be honest, it’s true.

Anyway, the “patch” was completely inundated with children and parents. The full spectrum of society was present and as I looked from side to side, I was in awe of the business plan that the land owners had put forth: get people to a field, charge £8 for a pumpkin that’s worth £2. Genius. Someone has struck orange gold with this idea. At this point I explicitly told Lis we weren’t buying a pumpkin. There’s no way these were Fairtrade pumpkins. They were being treated awfully by the kids.

Absolutely astounded by the popularity and feral nature of half of the children (and adults present) I was feeling somewhat concerned about the fact my wife had chosen to satirically dress my son as a pumpkin. Yes, not only was I subject to the full pumpkin patch experience, but I was also carrying round a massive human pumpkin too. As the ratty children crashed into my legs with their half filled wheelbarrows, I couldn’t help but think parenthood isn’t exactly what I was expecting. If only I had stood by my pumpkin patch boycott.


Deciding that watching unruly children stamping on pumpkins wasn’t the reason we took the trip, we proceeded to take some pictures of Eddison. In fairness, he looked pretty good among his pumpkin comrades and I have to say, the pictures are going to make some excellent blackmailing material later on in life.


As we left the patch, I couldn’t help but think about if we could grow pumpkins in our garden…