As far as sons are concerned, I am one up on Be Cartwright. I have four. This past summer we piled the whole crew into the car and headed for the south where a favorite cousin of mine has a farm. You see, I thought it was about time my lads found out what a horse and cow look like in the flesh. I wanted them to enjoy the thrill of playing in a loft of soft hay and of collecting eggs and catching pigeons. All these things they did and more. They rode the bailer and drove the tractor. They rode bareback across the field and shot gophers with a .22 rifle. You may think this is pretty tame stuff for kids, but let me remind you that every one of these experiences was a “first" for the boys. They had the time of their lives. I am one of those old fashion fathers who thinks this sort of thing is important. We bought a dryer a while back. Last week it required some servicing. My wife, in talking to the young repairman, told him that ever since it was new, the dryer had given off a peculiar odor when hot. "What did it smell like?" the repairman wanted to know. "Like a skunk really,” my wife replied. "What does that smell like?" the man asked. My wife smiled and asked him if he was a city boy. He was. So you see, there is this gap in our education. Our kids know the smell of a barbecued steak, french fries and auto exhaust, but not the most penetrating order of all.
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