Farmgirl Follies

Chore boy & the sisters

Posted by Farmgirl on February 5, 2010

He’s happy …

Dirt and fresh air have that effect on little boys.

He’s excited …

He heard me talking about what’s coming:

 

Blizzard headed toward mid-Atlantic Region

Winter Storm Warnings and Advisories issued for Northeast Ohio

 

 

We’re in the 4″-8″ range. It’s hard to describe the level of excitement in our house. The boots are neatly aligned by the door. Mittens and hats and scarves are accounted for. There are bright orange and red sleds waiting on the back porch.

It’s the weekend … what else do they have to do?

Chores, for one. And with promises of sled riding, snowmen and hot cocoa as incentive, they practically whistled while they worked. In fact, they were so enthusiastic I considered ordering them to bed the steers, repair the barn roof and build fence.

But I didn’t want to press my luck. They’re 9, 7 and 3. I suppose I’ll have to wait at least another year before I can expect them to handle a post hole digger.

 

 

The middle child filled a trough while the quality assurance manager supervises.

 

 

Don’t let him see you daydreaming!

 

 

 

Oldest child cleaned out the debris.

The words gross and disgusting are becoming more popular in her daily vocabulary.

Is it an age thing? Anything she doesn’t want to do is now gross, disgusting — or my least favorite — ”needs you desperately, Mommy!”

There are two reasons my help is needed desperately: blood and fire.

Cleaning soggy hay from the bottom of the horse trough does not require my desperately needed attention.

And I told her so.

She giggled.

 

 

She’s thinking … planning … scheming. I can see the wheels turning. Or maybe she’s just imagining the coming snow. And the cocoa. And yes, of course I will put whipped cream on top.

Cuz I’m the mommy. What I say goes.

At least I like to think so.

 

 

But sometimes I’m controlled by my emotions.

At other times the sugary smiles and orneriness fade and common sense kicks in.  I wonder why he’s wearing his sister’s hat … why he’s not wearing gloves … and what on earth he’s planning to do with that stick.

Perhaps he’s going to keep the sisters in line.

My help may, indeed, be desperately needed.