Even Santa Has His Limits

Farmer H has always been good with kids. His own kids may beg to differ, but even though he is sometimes a strict disciplinarian, Farmer H has a way with youth.

Every year he plays Santa for a local pre-school group at a local high school. He also used to take a day off work and do it for the boys' daycare facility. Farmer H spends his own money (okay, some of our household money, earmarked for such purchases) on little gifts that he stashes in his Santa bag. He has the full suit, and a fake beard, and some Santa-looking glasses that he perches on his nose. It's an event he looks forward to.

Farmer H also attends his grandkids' (from pre-school age to high school senior) sporting events and school programs. He visits them regularly, and entertains them every now and then with Barry the mini pony, Billy the goat, and Poolio the...um...pool. That's not to say that he's a push-over. If he picks you up and says you'll get to do the fun things after helping him...you'd better come prepared to help him! No playing with your phone or video games, no heavy sighing or whining. If he says to pick up sticks (his favorite chore to dish out to young 'uns), you'd better pick up sticks without giving him any lip. Or you won't get your fun activity, you will instead be taken back home with a lecture about how it hurts him more than it hurts you.

That said...about a month ago, when we had Farmer H's RetirementPartyPalooza, some damage occurred to one of Farmer H's prize driftwood lawn decorations.

As you can see, this is no small lawn decoration. Okay. It's not much of a lawn decoration at all in my eyes, but Farmer H likes such things, and spares no effort in harvesting them from around Hillmomba. This one looks more like a whole tree root system, and I imagine it came from down at the low water bridge, transported most likely by one of Farmer H's tractors. He hasn't fully landscaped this side of the Mansion, because it's where the chickens used to hang out and take cover under the porch when it rained. Otherwise, there'd be some pricey lava rock there instead of the dry pebbly dirt.

Farmer H knows The Perpetrator. In fact, The Perpetrator was here only the day before, supposedly helping, but more mischief-seeking instead, according to Farmer H. In fact, The Perpetrator had jumped up onto several tree limbs around the BARn and Shackytown area, swinging on them until they broke off. The Perpetrator was given a safety lecture about getting the wrong limb one of these days, and being conked on the head and knocked unconscious. By the limb. Not by Farmer H. There are tree limbs enough to spare in Hillmomba. His precious driftwood, though, not so much.

"I seen it coming. They was all out at the side of the house, goofing around, and The Perpetrator got to showing off, and jumped up on my stump and JUMPED UP AND DOWN! I knew it was going to break, but I didn't say nothin', because everybody was there. The Perpetrator knows better. We already had a talking-to about not jumping on tree limbs. After it happened, The Perpetrator looked around, kind of sly. The Perpetrator knew it was wrong."

I don't know if Farmer H has since addressed this behavior with The Perpetrator, whose age has not yet reached double digits.

I have a feeling Santa keeps a mental list, and doesn't need to check it twice.