Fred and Evelyn Knaff have been entertaining their grandchildren for the past week, Connie’s boys—that would be the five year old triplets! Yes, those boys are a handful for anyone, anytime, but Connie’s pregnant again and her husband, Ron has just been called up to Iraq. Connie’s nerves have not been very good, lately. She’s not due ‘til the middle of January but she’s been having a lot of trouble. Mrs. Evelyn said that Connie’s doctor laid down the law when she went in for her last checkup. He told her that if she didn’t get off her feet for a few days and get some rest, he was going to put her in the hospital. When Connie chose house arrest, the Knaffs flew up to New York and picked the little yard younguns up at the airport.
I saw Mrs. Knaff at the bank earlier and she was full of grandchildren stories. “Where are they now?” I asked.
“With their granddaddy, thank the Lord!” Mrs. Knaff said with a laugh. “You wouldn’t believe Fred, Shellie. He’s got the patience of Job with those boys. Nothing like he was when we were raising ours. Yesterday he took ‘em out to Old Man Henry’s farm to see the animals. Henry was milking that old cow of his when they got there. The only place they’d ever seen milk was in the grocery store, so that was pretty funny.”
“I bet,” I said. “What’d they think?”
Mrs. Knaff grinned. “Well,” she said. “Fred said they all three watched the milking with big old eyes and then Clay, I think it was, or was it Jay— oh, mercy…I can’t remember now. Out of the three, one of ‘em looked at Henry and said, “I think I see how you get it started, Papaw, but how do you make it stop?”