"I go bapple pickin'!"

Pumpkin and I spent last weekend visiting family. We also went apple picking with my parents. And we picked, and picked, and picked. Two hundred and fifty pounds of apples later, Pumpkin's first experience with apple picking was over.

Here's the thing about my parents: number one, they don't do anything small. If we're going apple picking, we're going apple picking and that means not leaving until every apple is picked. Number two, if Pumpkin likes something, they will go to no end to make sure he has what he wants. Yep, he's not spoiled or anything. Turns out, they gave him some homemade chunky applesauce the week before. Pumpkin loved it, so the 'rents needed to make more, "because he really likes it."

Pumpkin and I didn't take any of the apples with us, and he really wanted an apple when we got home a few days later. "Bapple? I no bapples," he told me.

"OK, let's go get some. I need to get milk too," I said.

"We go bapple pickin'?!" he asked excitedly.

"No, it's raining. I thought we'd just go to the store."

"Nevermind. I eat cookies."

"Mommy, I'm going to taste this bapple before I put it in the basket." There were about a dozen apples with little teeth marks in our baskets.