Oblogma

I can't tear myself away from election coverage to blog anything of substance lately. Suffice it to say that I am obsessed and fearful. One week of this to go, and then (please, sweet lord baby Jesus, Allah, Gaia, whomever may be listening) Obama will win, we can all celebrate, and things can get back to normal around here. 

In the meantime, guess what? Photos! At the pumpkin farm!

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You know how they say that in order not to overwhelm them, you should reduce young children's choices to two things tops? (For example: would you like the red cup or the blue cup?) Well, they're right, because, man, this is such a hard, painful decision every, single year.

We finally realized that he wasn't going to pick any of the pumpkins we suggested, so we tried covertly putting perfect pumpkins in his path and then "spotting" them. Didn't work. He had to find it on his own, and after looking over approximately 5,365 candidates, he wound up with the rinky-dinkiest pumpkin. But it was all his. And it was perfect.

 Griffin was easy. He was more interested in loading up the wagon with rocks. Here he is with rock number 2: