Last three years I’ve tried to clear a week during the summer to head to Nebraska to go help M’s folks cut wheat. Something always comes up. Typically, one of the geriatric dogs isn’t well and I don’t want to leave M home alone taking care of 300 pounds of four legged critters.
But this year, I’m trying to nip all of the excuses in the bud. Might board the dogs for a week, prepare a week’s worth of dinners so M can come home from work and just relax, and I’ll grab a wide-brimmed hat and head out to the farm.
Part of me just wants to help out, but let’s face it, most of me just wants to drive a combine and work out under a fierce mid-west sun for a week or ten days.
So, I tell M of my plans, how I don’t want to let another summer go by without pitching in …
Her response? “That’s great! You’d make a great lunch boy! They’ll love getting one of your brown bags while they’re out there working.”
See what I gotta deal with?