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.