The Kid kept saying that he wanted, "a wittle punkin", which--by the frustrated way he kept trying to pick up the pumpkins that weighed as much as he did--we took to mean that he wanted one he could carry himself. After much searching, we found one, but it held his interest only for as long as it took to wave down a tractor for a ride back to the slides. (There were four slides, and we had to try every one of them.) Apparently, slides and tractors trump pumpkins.
Sweet Husband was disappointed that we did not get to sample an apple cider slushie. I couldn't decide if that sounded delicious or nasty, but, in any event, we were getting to the "ticking time bomb" level with the lack of nap, so we decided it would be best to pay for our tiny pumpkins and head home.