Ben

Ben is our third eldest grandson. He is the professor of the family. He reads a lot, and retains a lot of what he reads. He says that he wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up. When I was his age, I couldn't pronounce the word, much less know what it meant. Sometimes I think Ben is a little too smart for his own good.

It was about three years ago that Ben brought me a dead bird that he had found out in the pasture. "What should we do with it" he asked? I said, "just throw it back out in the pasture and go wash your hands". He wasn't satisfied with that, he wondered what would happen to the bird's body. "The coyotes or a possum will eat it", I told him.

"I think we should bury it", Ben said. "OK then, you can bury it if you want". I figured next he was going to ask for a funeral service, but he didn't. He said, "where's your shovel"? I went and got a shovel and handed it to him. "Just go out in the pasture a ways and dig a hole", I said.
Ben took the shovel in one hand, the bird in the other and I helped him through the chain link gate. He walked out about thirty feet, laid the bird down, put a foot on the shovel and then paused. "Hey Ronnie"? " What is it Ben"? "How much are you gonna pay me for burying it" he asked? *****

When Ben was about eight years old he approached his Mom for a talk about Santa Claus. He expressed some of his doubts and asked his Mom to level with him, which she did. Afterwards she asked him was he OK with it. He said yes, he was big enough to handle the truth. A while later Carmen walked by Ben's room and noticed that he was crying. She said, "Ben, what's wrong? I thought that you were OK with what we talked about."

"I'm OK", he said. "Well why are crying Ben", Carmen asked? Ben replied," I just now realized that I probably won't be getting that laptop for Christmas".