LIZ DREIER | Wonder Boy goes to the farm

On a soggy Saturday morning in October, Grandpa, Mimi, Aunt "J" and our grandson, Wonder Boy, set out in search of the perfect pumpkin.

After our beach misadventure, we weren't sure if this excursion would be a success. As soon as we hit the driveway at Molnar's, however, we knew we had a winner.

"Dinosaurs!" we heard from the back seat. Little Jurassic had spotted the giant, straw creations and was straining against the straps of his car seat to get a good look. The boy's feet barely touched the ground when he charged off at full speed to see T-Rex and his buddies. Forget about holding onto Grandpa's hand, this kid was on a mission.

We got the full tour commentary as we walked along: "Blue dinosaur!" "Red dinosaur! "Green dinosaur!" Scientific names are unimportant when you are 2-and-a-half.

"How about a hayride?" Grandpa asked.

"Yeah!" our little guy was ready for adventure. "Tactors!" he yelled when he saw the wagons, and he was off as quickly as his little legs would carry him.

We piled into the wagon with our little explorer holding tight to a card we got at the ticket booth. It had the names and illustrations of the "dinosaurs" we would see on our way to the pumpkin patch. Mr. Dinosaur Hunter planted himself on the center bench. It didn't feel like the safest seat, but he wouldn't budge. Aunt "J" and I sat on either side of him and held on tight.

The pumpkin patch was beautiful, but our little Ichabod was more interested in squishing mud with his boots and running around than in finding a pumpkin. There was no time to worry about that anyway. Another "tactor" pulled up, and we got on board for the ride back to the play area.

Fresh off of the tractor, our bundle of energy called, "Come on!" And away we went for a game of follow-the-leader-through-the-straw maze. All we could see of Chase was a little Paw Patrol cap bouncing up and down amid the stacks of straw. We must have gone through that maze 10 times. No one complained.

Next up were straw bales piled high like hills, begging to be climbed. At the top were big, corrugated tube slides. Grandpa joined his little buddy for countless trips up and down those "hills", and I stood at the bottom of the tube, waiting to catch him. The kid, that is, not Grandpa! At this point, I couldn't tell which one of them was having the most fun.

Back home, a tired little boy clutched his dinosaur card as he slept. When his mom came to pick him up, all he could talk about were those dinosaurs.

He was still holding that card when they pulled out of the driveway on Sunday. For Wonder Boy, the main attraction at the pumpkin farm wasn't pumpkins. I don't know if he's going to be a farmer or a paleontologist.

This story was originally published October 25, 2021 at 4:11 AM with the headline "LIZ DREIER | Wonder Boy goes to the farm."