So we were at the hospital visiting my mother-in-law.  My Farmer was on his way from the city after a parts run to our John Deere Dealership (swather breakdown) so he stopped in to see his mom.  He was standing in the hallway, looking into the window – walls of the ‘family room’ where two of my children had parked themselves to watch their favorite 30-minute PBS show (Wild Krats).  Two older ladies came walking by.  The following conversation ensued:

Lady 1: Look at that little girl, Lady 2.  Isn’t she *so cute!*

Lady 2: Ohhhhhh, what a sweet little…GASP!  Is she *crocheting?!*

Lady 1:  Good lawd!  I think she IS crocheting!

Lady 2: She IS, she IS!  How old do you think that child is?

Lady 1:  She can’t be very old…look how tiny she is.  She is just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

Lady 2, notices My Farmer, who is nodding in agreement:  Is she yours? (he nods yes)

Just then, enter Farmer Boy from Grandma’s room, complete with usual uniform of cap, t-shirt, pliers pouch, pocket knife, wranglers, cowboy boots.

Lady 1 (to My Farmer):  Is he yours, too? (he nods)

Lady 2 (to our son):  Well, look at you!  I bet you are a little farmer, young man.  (he nods)

Lady 1:  NO WONDER she knows how to crochet.