Grant: Who gave God all of his power?
Mom: I don't know. Who do you think made God so powerful?
Grant: I don't know, but I'll ask Santa. He'll know.
Grant: When I grow up I want to be an elf.
Grant: Hey Mom. How long has our car been alive?
Grant: When I grow up I am going to make a box that every time you open the lid a dollar pops out.
Mom: How will you put the dollars in the box?
Grant: I won't put dollars in the box. It will be magic.
(Based on his fiscal ideals, I believe this kid has a future in politics. I know politicians that operate on Grant's magic box principle.)
Yesterday Grant was (un)lucky enough to spend the day with David and me at the farm.
We vaccinated and tagged cows,
vaccinated, wormed and fly treated horses,
picked strawberries,
watered all our new plants,
checked on bees,
on and on.
He was not happy about the whole deal.
The prize for his eternal patience was the opportunity to be the only Shupe kid
who got his hand prints put in the concrete pad at the third water trough.
See?
I was getting ready to load up and head for town when the concrete guys were finishing pouring the pad.
Grant thought it was neat to make his hand prints.
Counting down the days until the end of school.
Four more to go.
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