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I needed 12 mini-pumpkins stat for my younger daughter's birthday party craft - the only activity I'd planned for the preschoolers who'd be descending on my home in a mere two hours.

Here is the craft, in case you want to save it to your "Super Fun Kids' Parties!" Pinterest board:

Materials:

•12 plastic Dora the Explorer placemats

• 12 washable black markers

• 12 mini pumpkins

Steps:

1. Chuck a pumpkin on each placemat.

2. Distribute one marker to each preschooler.

3. Instruct children to color a face on the pumpkin.

4. Watch fun ensue.

Craft time: 20 seconds

* * * * * *

I grabbed my older daughter, Astrid, and we made our way to the pumpkin patch.

It was closed.

Who the hell closes a pumpkin patch on Oct. 28? This was crunch time. These pumpkins were practically medically necessary at this point.

"Let's just take the pumpkins and I'll leave a note," I said. "We'll come back later to pay." I began to examine pumpkins and stuff them into the fair trade basket I bought to look like I'm about to head to the farmers' market even though I never go.

"Isn't that stealing?" Astrid asked. So innocent.

"Nah. It's more like a rent-to-own situation. See? I'm writing in my best handwriting and leaving my name and number and how many mini-pumpkins we took." I scrawled my explanation onto the back of a Dunkin' Donuts flyer. "Look. I even made a little invoice that shows I know how much I owe them."

I wedged the note inside the screen door of the abandoned pumpkin hut and heaved the basket into the car.

Astrid glanced across the parking lot. "Why don't we just go in that building and ask?"

I followed her gaze. The world beyond the pumpkin patch resolved into focus. She was pointing at a church.

A church. I was quasi-stealing pumpkins from a church.

We crept in the side entrance, my confidence in the whole rent-to-own scheme wavering. To the distant hum of unfamiliar hymns, we tiptoed down the stairs in search of answers to our pumpkin dilemma.

"Mom, what's that rumbling sound?"

I panicked. "THEY'RE GETTING OUT!" Parishioners, freed from their pews to go in peace to Cracker Barrel, stampeded like herd animals to the exits, ready to lose their church offering envelopes in the nearest collection basket.

We tore up the stairs. "Mom! Why are we running?"

I didn't know. All I knew is that we were strangers in a strange land, and I had a load of hot mini-pumpkins in the passenger seat of my van. I imagined the Town & Country surrounded by pitchfork-wielding churchgoers demanding atonement.

I turned to Astrid. "Act natural." We folded ourselves into the crowd. I tried to look like my soul had recently been nourished.

We ambled to the car and left with our loot, promises to return flapping in the autumn breeze.

- Cindy Reed

Cindy Reed blogs at The Reedster Speaks, where she writes with humor and clarity about family life, mental illness, and her underwear. She is a three-time recipient of BlogHer's Voices of the Year award and her work has appeared on The Huffington Post, In the Powder Room, and Aiming Low. She teaches storytelling for bloggers at cindyreed.me and speaks frequently on the craft of writing.