The party, the trip and the pumpkin (in that order)

The Party
October has kicked off in typical Canuck fashion: chaos. On Wednesday, I hosted a Mile High Mamas party at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science to showcase their new Amazon exhibit.

The Trip
Thursday and Friday, I flew to California courtesy of Nintendo for a focus group with some of their other ambassadors. While there, we got to preview Wii Party, a board-game-esque with over 80 hilarious mini-games. It’s such a hoot that I’ve resolved to buy two extra Wii remotes so our entire family can play it. I’m sure Bode will be first in line.

Well, except it doesn’t involve his beloved Mario.
(The ladies in attendance: Amber from Nintendo, Gwen Bell, me, Janet, Marsha, Sizzle, Denise, Julie, Tracey Clark, Justine, Nintendo staff.)

The Pumpkin
I arrived home around midnight on Friday and Saturday was the weigh-off for pumpkin #2. As much fun as it was to hang out in the hot sun for four hours last weekend, I told Jamie to call us when his pumpkin was close to being weighed. He did just that 45 minute prior so I loaded up the troops and headed way up north.

I underestimated the amount of time it would take to get there and that Jamie would actually have gas in his car (he had borrowed my SUV to haul the pumpkin).

Here’s the thing about my dearly beloved: the man enjoys driving with only 1/4 of a tank of gas. It literally drives me nuts whenever I borrow his car because I have to waste time to get gas.

Only this time, there was no time.

Jamie called when we were an hour into our drive and close to nowhere.

“Where are you? My pumpkin is about to be weighed”
“Stall them. We’re not close and I have to stop for gas.”
“If you stop for gas, you’ll miss the whole thing.”

Then panic set in. I was driving unfamiliar roads and Jamie had to talk me through the process. I had already showed the children my below-empty gauge and told them to say a little prayer so we wouldn’t run out of gas.

If it worked for the loaves and fishes, it could work for multiplying the properties of petroleum.

Bode started freaking out, chanting “GAS STATION GAS STATION” over and over.

We arrived (barely running on gas fumes) just as Jamie’s pumpkin was being loaded up. We raced out of the car, all the while muttering about the nightmare it was to get there. Who on earth would live in this forsaken place?

Amy of Crunchy Domestic Goddess, that’s who.

She lives just down the road, saw the sign for the giant pumpkin weigh-off and figured I would probably be there.

Sad but very true.

In the end, Jamie’s second pumpkin weighed in at a respectable 868 pounds and his buddy Pete set a new Colorado state record: 1,306 lbs.

Both impressive but not nearly as exciting as the build-up to get there.

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