For the past week or so, we've been lucky to have Grady's grandma (aka "Pama") here for a visit. She came to rescue us all from the two-week summer vacation that daycare takes every August. Two weeks! What gluttony! Or rather sloth! And it feels as though they just took spring break!
Well, the inconvenience caused by our lack of childcare turned out to be a marvelous thing, because Grady and his Pama got tons of time to run around wearing each other out, while Jasper and I went off to work. They read books and played in the pool and went to the park and did puzzles and ate ice cream and blew bubbles and climbed stairs and just generally did all the things that need doing in a day. They both went down so easily each evening!
As weekend approached, it occurred to me that now I had even more family to rope into my forced family funtime adventure plans. So plan I did. Except I really didn't and this was sort of a last minute thing. But it came together just as well. We've been discussing recently that Grady would likely be ready for another trip to the farm, with actual feeding of animals this time. He is already a semi-pro goat groomer at the zoo (professional designation withheld, because he sometimes forgets that you shouldn't touch their heads). So, we headed off to Little Farm, with our sack of (organic) romaine hearts.
An aside: Jasper teased me for getting organic. And I almost didn't. But here's the thing! Pesticides are so harmful to farmworkers and their families, so even if I am not going to eat the lettuce, I could not in good conscience poison farmworker children when the option not to was RIGHT THERE. And also! Once I got to thinking, I felt bad that I wouldn't be more careful about the food I was giving to a goat. He probably doesn't want to be poisoned by pesticides either. Jasper pointed out that the goat would happily eat a vacuum cleaner. And he's right. But still! Farmworker children. I win.
So. Grady fed the animals. No big deal.
He says "geese" now. And also "doats." And also roughly every word he hears. While at the farm, he perfected "chicken poop," as you do.
Rambling up the hill with Pama was entertaining, because life! What a trip!
Possibly hard to tell from just the muzzle, but this is a sheep.
And then the cow. You may recall that on our last visit to the Little Farm, Grady felt certain he did not care for the cow one bit. This time, we tried to feed the cow when we arrived, but his mouth was so big and his teeth and his gigantic tongue lashing out all unpredictable and well... we just weren't up to it. But that Grady of mine was not one to back down from the challenge. He warmed up with the water fowl, polished his form with the goats, and then. He fed that cow. Like a boss. See that lettuce snack that cow is enjoying? That right there was delivered to that monstrous bovine mouth by one not-so-Baby Grady.