A Little Boy and His Grandpa

Last week my dear dad turned 60, so I packed up the two boys and went home for a surprise visit.

It was such a nice visit...

My little man (4 years) whose sole purpose in life, up til now, was to be Spiderman, decided that Grandpa was his new hero, and his new mission is to be farmer. Just like Grandpa...

(Reading Archie comics with Grandpa)

And overcame his fear of dogs...

...and learnt how to climb trees...

..and when visitors asked his name, he said with great sincerity and aplomb: "My name is Nathan Rainbow.." (His name is Nathan Raymond...But Rainbow sounds better, don't you think?)

Little baby cherub, just turned one, managed to see down past his chubby little tummy and discovered that he has a wee-wee. A most interesting little gadget. He bends over to look at it, every chance he gets.

And found out his big brother giggles and squirms when he pokes his finger into his belly-button.

And learnt how to say "Uh-oh". No doubt, he will find himself in many situations, where this expression will be appropriate.

Planting trees with my brother and his wife. I told her that, apparently, if you talk to your garden with love, it grows better. She pondered if this means her new fruit trees will bear bitter fruit, since they were arguing like cats and dogs while they planted them...

And then she wondered if such a conversation would make it onto my esteemed blog (I couldn't resist.)

Meanwhile, Little cherub was busy eating dirt, while he thought no-one was looking...

...and pulling the dog's tail.

I lamented that I didn't have a better camera, to capture the fog hanging over the beautiful Australian bush.

And when it came time to go home,

The Little Man was most upset and tried to hide behind the door. He wanted to stay with Grandpa, and make sure the foxes didn't eat any lambs, ...

 And for the first time in my life I packed our lunch, instead of heading for the nearest McDonalds drive-thru. I wonder if this is being smart/frugal, or I am, in fact, turning into my mother. Every time we travelled somewhere, my mum packed the blue port with sandwiches and home-made biscuits and a thermos of tea. We never EVER got to go to McDonalds. In fact, when my dad finally did venture into McDonalds for the first time, he ordered a "hamburger and chips". The 15 year old behind the counter, had to educate him...Bless his heart.

PS. Shamelessly self-promoting this week, so this post is going in a few blog hops...

(Please note, I do try to follow back, but sometimes it takes me a while to get through all the blogs. I like to have a good squizz around, on your blog, and leave a meaningful comment.)