“I think they like their hay the most,” Sam tells him. “But we save the good treats for when visitors come.”
“Like my elephant ear.” Max nods like he gets it.
“Just like that.” Sam smiles at him before digging into his lunch.
This is something I don’t get to do. Listening to the kids chat brings a smile to my face. Their conversations are so different from the ones I have with Max. They talk about their favorite books or stuffed animals, or what they want to do in class tomorrow. Like drawing pictures.
It’s the cutest thing ever.
All of the kids are on their best behavior, a testament to how great their teachers are. They don’t get enough credit because I could never do this. Having Max all on my own can be stressful some days. I don’t know if I’d survive having tomanage fifteen other kids. There’s two teachers, but even then, it’d still be hard.
“Is everyone done with lunch?” their teacher asks, walking up and down the tables.
“Yes,” they answer in unison.
“Great. Then let’s clean up after ourselves and not leave any trash. We don’t want the animals to get it.” Her gaze flits behind us. “Because I think we have some visitors.”
Everyone turns toward the fence where a few of the ranch’s newest residents come wandering up.
“Cows!” they shriek, jumping up and running over to greet them.
“Don’t put your fingers through the fence,” someone says. “We don’t want them to bite you, okay?”
The cows don’t stick around long, coming over just long enough to see what’s going on before heading back out to find their lunch.
“Are they hungry?” Max asks, packing up his lunch.
“Maybe,” I say. “They can eat whenever they want.”
All the kids are gathered to get back onto the wagon as we head toward the ranch.
“This really is the perfect day for them,” I tell Sam.
This time, I don’t even bother trying to find a spot in the back. I’m happy riding up front with him.
“They’re having a great time.”
“They are. And no one tried to feed the animals their sandwich.”
Sam laughs, warm and deep. “I think I’m going to have to watch out for that one kid. He was picking his bananas off his sandwich.”
“As he told me, they were yucky.”
“I don’t know how kids eat anything these days.”
“Thank God Max isn’t picky. Although, I’m pretty sure he could live off tacos if I let him.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not. I make a mean taco.”
Sam nudges me in the side. “Is that code for something else?”
“Stop it.” I swat at him. “Mind out of the gutter.”
“I wouldn’t mind one of your tacos, darlin’.”
“Seriously,” I hiss. “You cannot say things like that when we’re out here.”
