Thank you, Feffer

Zephyr is lucky to have a Dada who is passionate about growing food. Jon will plant rose bushes, because he knows I love the scent, but besides that, if you can't eat it, there's no point. He has always wanted Zephyr to be a part of that process, so that he will understand where food comes from. Jon is extraordinarily patient; it doesn't bother him that every part of the gardening process takes at least twice as long with Zephyr "helping."

One June dusk, we were out planting Desert Cherry bushes, allowing Zephyr occasional use of the hose for his favorite job- watering. (Don't give him the hose unless you have dry clothes handy!) After he finished with one of the plants, he said in a high voice "Thank you, Feffer!" Of course, I was overwhelmed with the cuteness of his statement, and couldn't stop beaming as Jon explained that he used to be the sing-song soprano voice of the plants giving thanks after Zephyr watered them, but clearly our little guy had internalized the message of helping out his green friends.

This concept has been a potty training aid. For example, let's say we're at the park for community dinner. "Zephyr, let's try to water the grass before we get in the car to go home." Or at the swimming pool. "Sure, Zephyr, you could go pee pee in the pool, but look at that thirsty tree over there. She looks like she needs your pee pee more than this pool does." Yesterday we were packing up to head home for lunch after playgroup at the park. I coaxed an overtired Zephyr (we had been up since 4 am) into trying to pee before climbing into the car. He successfully completed this task, and as I was pulling up his underwear and shorts, I said in the familiar chipper voice, "Thank you, Zephyr!" He whispered, "Mommy, did you hear the grass?"