Hubby grew up on a farm.

Punky always asks us to tell him stories about when we were little.

So, we proudly comply.

Now, Punky talks incessantly about growing up on his farm.

He talks about calling the cows in from the pasture.  He talks about getting hay (“We run out of hay today, Momma, so now we have to go buy some more…” I don’t think he quite grasps how farmers get their hay, yet) He talks about his friends coming over to the farm to see him.

This morning he was planning a “sleep party-over” with his friends at his farm.  He said, “Momma, you can come to the sleep party-over too.  I have lots of sleeping bags.”

The freaky part for me is when he talks about how his mom died and just he and his dad live on the farm now.

Hubby’s mom passed away; however, Hubby’s dad no longer lives on the farm… so this part is just his imagination at work.   Still kinda freaky to hear him say that I died when I am standing right there!

*shudder*

On the bright side, he has a great imagination!