My Quinn’s preschool goes on a field trip to the apple orchard every year. As I count up kids and years, I realize that the trip Quinn and I took this week was my sixth time there. (And Quinn’s fifth, even though he’s only four years old—I swear the math works out somehow.) I could lead the damn tour and drive the tractor by now.
Not much has changed since year one, although the trip does get easier every year as I have fewer and fewer children to keep track of. Maybe I’ll go next year when Quinn is in kindergarten, and I won’t have to watch any kids. After all, the teachers always seem to have a way better time than the parents.
The farm dog is also looking more…dead…than in years past.
Quinn was really excited about going to the apple orchard. Apples! Apples! Apples! We’re going to pick apples! Look! I found an apple!
But before we went to pick apples, we visited all the farm animals, which you would think would be fun, but instead was full of exclamations of, “I want to pick apples!” and “When are we going on the hayride to pick the apples?” and “I hate the sun!”
Here’s a picture of a turkey…
We saw a cow, chickens, sheep, and goats. In years past, they’ve given the kids pellets to feed to the goats. But not this year.
As with many things, Quinn had an alternative solution.
Quinn took his hand-plucked grass and proved to the goats that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.
Next up were…more goats. And then, just past all the goat enclosures, was this sign.
Goats are not a joke.
Quinn! Watch out!
And then there were the pigs, which Quinn adored almost as much as he hated the sun (it was really hot for about four seconds, which pissed him off mightily).
Fortunately, the baby pig behaved in a completely stereotypical way.
We finally got on the hay ride that took us to the apple trees. En route we passed this “pond,” also known as “the scum pit.” I asked Quinn if he’d like to swim in it.
He said yes.
Finally, finally we made it to the apple trees.
In years past, we’ve only had to walk about four feet to the nearest tree to find apples. This year, they were harder to spot. We had to hunt to find a row of trees that still had non-rotten apples within preschooler reach on it.
But once we did, Quinn was so happy. He stuffed our two bags full of apples, then carried an armful back to the hay wagon.
We ended up with twenty-two apples, not counting the ones we ate on the spot.
I have to say, even after six trips to the apple orchard, we still had a great time.
If you haven’t had enough of me already, you can go over to Diets in Review, where I wrote a guest post, not about my diet, but Jack’s. It’s autism awareness week over there. (Or it was. I’m a little late.) Check it out!