So here's the "story".....
There's this huge fucking caterpillar thingy we see every year (the "fam" and I, that is) that is on display at Stoney Creek Farm, right?
It's a blown up piece of rubber, plastic, whatever the fuck you want to call it. It has the ingenious ideal of children entering it all profolactic like (orally), with the mastermind production of these unknowing hosts scrambling with joy to their "questionable" destiny.....
Mike and I have to marvel at this comical ingenuity, as this is by far, THE BEST fucking thing about going to Stoney Creek Farm in the first place. We always forget about it, only remembering the awesomeness of Fall and all it's wonder, all embued into this corner of the world that they deem "the pumpkin patch".
And each year we are sorely reminded, as we wait (Snookms and I) in giggled anticipation, at the end product of our forgotten old insect of a friend:
That's not MY fucking kid being shit out of the caterpillar's ass, I'll tell you THAT MUCH.
I waited for what seems like EONS for this kid to find his way to doom, and I must've looked cold and heartless to this poor kid's father as I stood grinning like the Grinch, ready to snap the perfect shot. His father looked rather shamed for have letting his son go through such an ordeal. I felt his fury and wrath ten fold burning holes in the back of my comfy knitted red winter sweater, wishing it to be engulfed in flames most likely, as well as the rest of my body as I ran away cackling with glee, to share my profitable yields with the group.
Regrets do I have, you ask?
Only time will tell.
Try explaining THIS to the Heavenly Father up above when I'm in line, hoping to get my stamp o' approval in order to enter the pearly gates. Wish me well. I may have wear one of those orange get-ups you see those kids wearing that pick trash up off the highway for awhile. I'll probably be on probation.
Was it worth it, you ask?
Again, only time will tell.
I hope the kid doesn't need therapy after all this.