At one of the farmer’s markets we visit from time to time, a bunch of kids are running around.  They are mostly kids of the farmers themselves, and remarkably well behaved.  While running around gleefully and chaotically, they never seem to cross that line into truly unruly children.

Jo was about six months on one of these trips.  Being out with a baby always gets conversations flowing, and breaks the ice in a lot of places.  We were discussing how the kid fit into the farm with one of the vendors, both the husband and the wife.  The husband, in describing how helpful he found the kids to be, got a wry look on his face, and hollered out for his 5 year old.

The boy comes over, obviously not thrilled about being drawn from whatever trouble the kids were trying to figure out how to get into.  He perked up right away though when his dad asked him to tell us about the vegetables.  That kid started spinning stories about the veggies decked out in front of us.  He knew all their names, how to best eat them, when they were planted, and how well they grew.

Beaming with pride, the husband commented “He’s our garden manager.”  To which the youngin’ replied “That’s right!.”

Steph asked the boy how long he’d been in this role.  His face contorted up a bit, trying to do the calculation, and replied, “I’ve been doing it as long as I can remember, at least since I was two.”

Jo is 18 months in this picture, and already starting to dig in, cleaning up rocks, putting nails in buckets, carrying egg baskets.  Cheers for the family farm!