Don't Have a Cow, Man...

One of the joys of being a grandma is being able to snag a kid and just go do something.  Usually Hubby, Babygirl and I hit the farmer's market on Saturday morning for fresh coffee and cookies vegetables and fruit, and then move on to our weekly shopping. Since Babygirl was hanging with a friend, and Hubby's back was being mean, I went next door and asked Squeaker if he'd like to go.

"Is it far?"

"Not at all!"

"Not the one at the beach?  'Cause it takes EIGHT HOURS to get to that one."

Well.  He has a point:  That WAS the last farmer's market I took him too, and it did take him and Curlygirl eight hours to get there because of rain, traffic jams and general mayhem on the road.

"Nope. It's here in town, I promise."

He agreed, and to our delight we discovered that it was trick-or-treat day at the market. He wasn't costumed, but no one held that against him. He got candy, a tiny pumpkin, fresh cookies, a bag of granola and samples of all kinds.  He wants to go back next week.  I felt a bit like Charlie Brown.  I didn't get rocks, but I had to PAY for my stuff.

On the way home we talked about food we liked.  "Thumbs up if you like:  Carrots!  Broccoli!  Apples! Peaches!"  We took turns suggesting foods.  I finally said, "Coconut!" and he said, "I don't know, I've never had it.  But I like milk, and coconuts have milk, so I guess I'd like it!"  So I had to explain that cow's milk an coconut milk might not be at all similar, and why.  So then he said:

"So, it's not a cowconut?"

I. Laughed. My. Butt. Off.

He's FIVE.  OhMyGoodness.

DeeDee