Bear and Bug are again at the farm again. This time, just to play, as wheat harvest is over. In the old days, they may have written a letter home to share their adventures. Something like this…
Hello Mommy, Hello Our Mike,
Here we are at Gramma Grampas
Our days are very entertaining
They say we’ll have a lot of fun when it stops raining.
What? You’ve heard this one? Ok, well since it’s not 1950, I simply call every once in awhile to check in on them and see what they’re doing. Last night was no exception. I called and Bear answered the phone. I asked him about whether or not he’s been having any fun, and whether or not he was practicing for his black belt test, and whether or not he was getting along with his sister. He answered everything honestly and we had a very good discussion. I asked if his sister was around and he stopped suddenly and said, “Oh, Mom, one more thing…I need you to buy me new underwear and new swimsuits. It seems that Dad hasn’t done that since I turned 8. My boys are starting to suffocate.” [stunned silence] “Mom, are you there?” “Oh, yes dear, ok, I’ll try to do that before you get home. What kind of underwear do you prefer now, boxers or briefs” “Which ones are the loose ones” Ok, you get the idea, right? We discussed the merits of each type of underwear in depth. Then the netting in swimsuits. Then we decided that when he got home he’d throw away everything that was too small and I would supply him with a couple of different types, so he could scientifically determine whether he was, indeed a boxers or briefs sort of man. At this point in the coversation, I think I’d been pushed to the very brink. “Son, I’ve had a much longer than anticipated and frankly desired conversation with you about your balls and your undergarment, is your sister around?” “Oh….ermmm…yeah….uh, that was awkward, huh Mom.” We both laughed and off he went to find his sister. She was too busy making walkie-talkies make farting noises to really talk to me.
Dang, I miss those kids.