Saturday, May 21, 2011


Joyce and I have three sons (Andy, James and Ben). If I hadn't been there myself, I'd never believe they were all drawn from the same womb. Their differences are best explained with a pithy story.

During the summer of 2000, we visited the farm (the home of Joyce's mother's family in central Illinois since the 1870s). One morning Ben (12 years old at that time) and I went for a bicycle ride down to the grain elevator, about a mile away. Once we'd absorbed all the wonders the Galesville elevator has to offer, Ben and I pedaled back to Grandpa's, where we found Andy (18) and James (13) in the front yard mystifyingly facing a large bush.

So Ben inquired, "Wucha doin?"

Andy matter-of-factly explained, "Pickin greenberries."

James innocently corrected, "No, we're picking the black ones!"

Ben eyeballed Andy and sarcastically intoned, "Nice try."

1 comment:

joyce said...

we just see the differences, but others see how similar. I know I must get some projects ready for when Andy and Ben are here. Andy and Ben like to fix stuff.