Up on the Farm

Two Exhausted Ladies Last Evening
One more Than the Other

I came home yesterday to find a completely exhausted Favorite Panamanian. She had spent the day chasing the FBR around Davis Farmland, a Children’s Discovery Farm. Earlier in the week I’d asked a couple mothers of young children that work for me for recommendations on places we could take the FBR while she’s supervising us. Since Davis Farmland was just a short trip up I-190 that’s where my wife and the FBR ended up yesterday. It turned out to be quite an adventure. My wife was sending pictures all day long as that adventure unfolded. There were pony rides, cow milking (kind of), and she finally got to feed goats. A pleasure denied earlier in the week down in Rhode Island. I was so devastated that I couldn’t share this experience with her (tongue firmly in cheek).

The biggest hit of the day though was a splash pad that included a foaming area in which the FBR finally attained her long sought communion with millions of bubbles. My wife reported it was extremely difficult to get the FBR out of the soup once she realized my wife wasn’t about to enter the foam to get her. She was eventually coaxed out with the understanding they would return immediately after lunch. They polished off lunch quickly or I should say the FBR polished off both her and most of her abuela’s lunch. She is a complete bandit when it comes to food being consumed around her.

There were also a couple slides in which the FBR’s tutelage under Wingman came into play because my wife reported she was absolutely fearless charging to the top of slides which had the attendants looking around for her escort. My wife was forced to call out from the dust the FBR had left her in that the child was actually under at least an illusion of supervision. You can now understand the fatigue inducing experience this was for grandmother involved.

She readily handed the FBR off to me when I got home. The FBR had recharged her own battery with an afternoon nap which I could tell my wife was extremely jealous of. We were soon chasing chipmunks and dashing through the sprinkler together before we came back inside so the FBR could exert eminent domain over my dinner. Since my wife had errands to run I was left with the duty of putting the FBR down for the night. Part of the routine my wife has used over the past week was singing to the FBR so of course this request was made to me when the appropriate time arrived. A man has to know his limitations and mine when it comes to music are legendary. The FBR however is apparently immune to the power of my singing voice to cause involuntary and profound cringing as we sang Row Row Row Your Boat together. I created a couple of new verses with her name prominently used which she was delighted with.

BRS Seems to Like the FBR

I retired to the cave to watch the Red Sox win their 10^th game in a row accompanied by the baby monitor. Mookie Betts was of secondary importance as I heard the FBR over the monitor continue singing the song for another fifteen minutes. I thought my heart would burst. Speaking of hearts bursting my son called the other evening and we put the FBR on the screen with the BRS. As soon as the BRS saw the FBR there was a series of excited squawks usually reserved for hearing her abuela’s voice. I have a sneaking expression these two will end being very good friends in the coming years with the FBR showing the BRS the best way to conquer foam at the farmland.