Farms and fields and family

This morning we drove out to Sugarloaf Mountain, MD to see our friend David at his bountiful farm and market on Comus Road. What a lovely excursion except that the kids had a loud case of the "gimmes":

I want that 60 lb. pumpkin
I'm hungry, let's get cider
can we?
could we?
when? . . .

Why? I steamed silently. Why must we bring all of the city's materialism with us wherever we go? Don't they get that farms are sacred? Haven't I been pushing that hard enough?

And that's when I had to lighten up. Farms are not sacred to children. They are seen (at least by my children) as liberating spaces, with room for all to be him/herself. The sensory triggers kids encounter on the farm are expressed transparently; the fear, the joy, the boredom.

Gross: There's mud everywhere.

You guys think farms are so great. (eyes rolling)
Watch out for those bees!
I want that $60 pumpkin.
You have too many rules, mom.

We did our browsing, helped David unload a few fresh pumpkins from his tractor, then headed along the country roads to the next stop. That's when I heard my son say, "I want a farm someday." Comforting words, I thought. Then a twinkle rose up to my eye.

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