A couple of weeks ago, when my parents were visiting, we headed out to a nearby petting farm. After all, if there’s even a small chance that I won’t be the one stuck helping Connor feed the goats, I’m all for it. We were among the farm’s earliest visitors that day, which meant the animals in the barn were good and ready to eat. But Connor had other plans.
As he taunted all the goats with his full cup of food, he noticed that there were an awful lot of ducks in the barn. And, he knew the ducks would be more comfortable in the pond. He asssumed they were in the barn because they had gotten lost, so he took matters into his own hands and by sprinkling food on the ground, was able to lead all of those 'lost' ducks back to the pond they belonged in. It was rather impressive.
Through all of this, Helen was napping. My dad – never one to pass up an opportunity for a nap – volunteered to 'babysit' Helen. My mom, who grew up on several farms and is not one to faint at the thought of feeding a few goats, took Connor duty.
My role? I played director of the trip, making sure Connor got to the pony ride line with enough time to ride the pony and then sprint over to the wagon ride that starts a half hour later. Yes, indeed, I am a master at the petting farm.