Uncle Bob

Every year since Will was born (okay, just the past 2 years) we go out to Uncle Bob’s farm and ride on the dust-infested hay-ride. There is also much trepidation concerning the maize maze. I mean, really, the last thing I want is my last thought being “I am lost in a maze of corn”.

And let’s not forget the “petting zoo”: a ramshackle stable with very pathetic-looking animals hiding under cages of overfed rabbits, staring off into space like they have been Prozac’ed to within an inch of sanity. All in all, we look forward to it each year. It really is a bit of fun, and Will actually liked the animals and petted them all (and washed his hands vigorously afterwards to get any creepy pathogens off). The bee boxes are even cool.

But watching the “city kids” run around with their shirts over their mouths to diffuse the smell of animal manure and watching their fear of being stung by a harmless honey bee is really how I justify giving Uncle Bob 25 bucks to walk in the door: weekend entertainment at its best! Oh, and did I mention there is a really old washing machine OUTSIDE? Very cool.