Sunday, we went to the farm to visit my grandparents and parents. My mom and dad asked Number 1 Son to stay a couple of nights and go on the farm with my dad. Number 1 Son hesitated some, so we let him decide when he got home. We got home, and number 1 son wants to go to the farm, but he doesn't like the idea of us being an hour's drive away. There's some level of seperation anxiety after his stay in the hospital. So, like the charitable person I am, I volunteered to take him to the farm Wednesday, and even to go out and work with him and Pa.
I swore, proclaimed, and declared that I'd starve in the gutter before I farmed again. I suppose this is one of the ways God is reminding me to be humble... Maybe the two of them will forget I volunteered to help by then. :)