Apple Picking. Or Purgatory

When I picked up the kids from their basketball clinic yesterday at 12 (because of the faux-holiday), I had plans.  It would, I thought, be a great day to either go hiking at Purgatory Chasm; do a little Urban Hiking in Boston, hitting the MFA and the ICA to get some culture on; or to ride bikes along the Charles into Harvard Square.  I presented these options at lunch and the options were immediately dismissed because the Friends were going to Honey Pot Hill Orchard to go Apple Picking!

I knew that I was defeated.  This is because of the power of the Friends. I used to be cool and I used to have the best ideas and now I am only as good as the amount of time I spend doing what all of the other parents do so that my kids are with their friends as close to 16 hours per day as possible.  I tried.  I laid out my three paltry substitutes for Honey Pot Hill.  They were rejected.  Immediately.  On the grounds that there would be no Friends at any of the places I wanted to go.

And so we got in the car and drove for 45 minutes (it was a pretty drive and relatively traffic- and construction-free) to get to the land of Chaos and Bedlam.  I should have turned around and gone hiking along the Assabet River as soon as I saw the first police officer directing traffic.  The second police officer directed us to a parking lot where parking lot attendants directed us to a parking space.  I wondered if Bono or Taylor Swift or Tom and Gisele were picking apples, too.

No, they were not.  Everyone else in the world was, however.

So we parked and immediately there was a scramble for my PHONE to see the TEXTS from the FRIENDS' mom so that we could find the FRIENDS.

The Friends had not yet arrived, so we went to look at the animals, which made me very sad, because there were hundreds of people staring at three little pink pigs, two goats, two sheep, some chickens, and some rabbits.  Less farm animals than sideshow.  The pigs were even made to hang out in front of three dog houses -- you guessed it -- made out of bricks, straw, and twigs, respectively.  I was grateful that there was no wolf in evidence.

Still awaiting the Friends, we selected a pumpkin to bring home and walked with our 26 pounder, which cost $14, back to the car.

The Friends arrived.  The kids were hungry.  There was a farm store with a long line and there was a grill with a longer line and there was a bakery with a line that rivaled the lines outside the Apple Store when the new iThings are released.  We were told that the caramel apples were not in the Farm Store, and so we got out of line and went to leave, only to see a tray of caramel apples near the register.  We got back in line.  As we got to the tray of caramel apples, they were purchased, one by one, until there was only one left.  With nuts.  We had five kids with us.  We got out of line again.  

We went to another window without a line, where we were told that that window was for Family Fun Pack, which came with a caramel apple, an apple cider donut, and apple cider.  Only we couldn't BUY the Family Fun Pack there, we had to buy it in Parking Lot B.  Wherever that was.  

So, we walked over to the hayride, where we were allowed to buy a Family Fun Pack, which cost $16 and included a small bag for apple picking and a hayride and a Hedge Maze.  For one person.  We figured that took care of one kid's rides and three kid's snacks, and the apple picking, so we bought one, paid $2 each for everyone else for the hayride, and got on the hay bails.  The tractor dumped us in the middle of the orchard, which actually was lovely, except that there were 10,000 people there and smooshed apples everywhere, making it slippery, so, inevitably, my younger kid fell in the smooshed apple and got smooshed apple all over himself.  The other kids were all climbing precariously perched ladders.  How much do these people pay for insurance at Honey Pot Hell?

When we got back to the Maze, we discovered that the Family Fun Pack ticket was lost.  The kids did the Maze (at a cost of $4 per kid), and the other parent found a nice Honey Pot Hell Employee, who believed her that her ticket had been lost and got her a caramel apple, a cider donut, and an apple cider.  This took care of the 3 youngest kids.  The two bigger kids went back to look at the pigs and I got in the Bakery Line, which was not a line but a chaotic crush of people wanting their donuts and caramel apples.  I waited 20 minutes.  The line was no closer to the bakery window.  I pleaded with the two older kids to allow me to get out of the line and told them that I would find them a caramel apple somewhere else.  I did not specify a time frame for this.

We got back in the car and my older kid, the one who didn't get a caramel apple, asked where we would get one.  I drove the 45 minutes back to Waltham and then to the other side of town and, once there, went to the little Wagon Wheel farm stand, where they had caramel dipping sauce for apples, but no caramel apples.  So, the older kid, who was stoic, opted for a chocolate Dracula head on a lollipop stick.

We got home and I swore to my husband that I will NEVER go apple picking again, unless it is at an orchard where there are apples on trees and no amusement park accoutrements and no other people.