Grandsons witness startling origin of their favorite drink
There would be cows, of that much we were certain, and that’s all the convincing it took to get our grandsons fired up about an afternoon on the Wayne County Farm Tour with Papa and Gee Gee. Actually, we could have said there would be dirt, bugs and stones and they would have been equally as excited to run around the countryside with Kristin and me. With James ringing in at 3 1/2 and Max at two years his junior, the pair is at that magical age where any outing can be pitched as the adventure of a lifetime.
It didn’t take much selling to get the boys’ parents on board with the idea of an afternoon off either. With Charlotte fresh off a road trip and Andrew stuck working on a research paper, the chance at a few hours without the constant din of crashing toys and loudly screeched inequities seemed like a dream too precious to own. Charlotte had the boys strapped in and headed toward our midway rendezvous point before I even hung up the phone.
Kristin and I got to drive a really nice truck in the deal, compliments of the unspeakably complex process of properly transferring the kids’ car seats into our little Toyota. Charlotte just flashed us an ornery grin, gave us each a pat on the shoulder, handed me her truck keys and then drove off alone in our car. This was likely the best option for all. As a daily driver, the truck is already hopelessly polluted with the detritus of preschool travelers. Empty juice boxes peer out from beneath the seats, cracker crumbs line every crease in the upholstery and the sticky smear of disgorged applesauce packets draws fruit flies toward untimely death on the back seat floor mats.
I remember living like this 25 or 30 years ago and feeling hopelessly certain those days would never end. Now here we were, eager to dive right back into the madness. Funny what happens to your own good sense when your children start having babies of their own.
So there we were, with hours to kill and a free pass to dazzle the youngsters in any way we saw fit. We headed straight to the dairy farm. If you’re looking to leave a lasting impression on a toddler, just show him where the white stuff that fuels his daily rambling really comes from. Tiny minds were blown. Even James, who has something to say about everything, was “udderly” dumbstruck when he witnessed the milk coming out of that cow!
As if the idea of a four-legged milk machine wasn’t enough to make a memory that would last a lifetime, then standing in the middle of a whole mess of tractors, each of them half as big as a house, took the trick in a heartbeat.
The boys fed hay to the calves, posed for photos on bales of straw and petted weary kittens sleeping in a sunbeam. It was all as good as it gets for a pair of aspiring oldsters and their toddling progeny. And Frankie, our hound dog, even got his day as we swooped by our place to pick him up on the way back to Charlotte’s house. He “detailed” the interior of the truck the entire way home, snorkeling every misplaced crumb with the happy lapping of an eager tongue. A good time was had by all!
Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John atjlorson@alo novus.com.
