Owen: I’m Dad today!
Me: Oh, really? What are you going to do today?
Owen: I’m going to smoke cigars.
Me: Anything else?
Owen: Yes. Drink bourbon.
Me: Are you going to get any work done?
Owen: No, I’m going to shave wood.
Me: What?
Owen: BLAM RANG JANGLE!
What do you do on a perfect fall Sunday morning in New England? You go apple picking with your good friends the Kohlers.
I’m temporarily iPod-less, so I’ve been leafing through old books of mix CDs in the car.
Big mistake.
Here’s Owen’s new favorite song:
Yeah, it’s only late September, but the leaves are already starting to turn here — and the local pumpkin stand is already open for business. I drove past it this morning and had a flashback to a couple of years ago, when Sophie started to care about Halloween. Well, about pumpkins, mainly. See that painted pumpkin there? Sophie named him Carl, and she wouldn’t let us carve him, turn his innards into a pie, or throw him out when he started to get soft and cave in on himself.
I eventually chucked Carl into the woods, but he was out there a LOT longer than he should have been. It’s a good thing black bears aren’t attracted to the smell of rotting pumpkin.
