I just have to record a story here. It happened several weeks ago, and isn't especially significant to the story line of our lives, but every time I think about it I keep on laughing. I decided that I just have to keep it here to always remember it.
In our ward is a young couple who have a little girl. They are a very sweet family. The father was raised on an onion farm in Oregon, and he's just about the nicest person you'll ever meet. Anyone who lives in our neighborhood will know exactly who I'm talking about. This man has a passion for John Deere tractors, like no one I've ever seen before. He's like a little boy about them - he has model tractors in his house, tractor t-shirts and even a clock that chimes each hour with a different tractor engine sound. I love it, although it kind of scared me one day while I was over there babysitting. I could not figure out what kept revving at me.
Well, one day in church this guy was sitting behind us. Bitty was in one of her classic grumpy tempers, you know, the kind where she is disagreeable about absolutely everything. I was trying to make her happy (why do I try?) by offering her a cracker. She took the cracker and looked at it disgustedly. She let me know just how she felt about my efforts by saying, "I HATE crackers." Well, my friend behind us got a rather stricken look on his face. He then smiled, leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to Bitty, "You know, every time you say that a tractor dies!" I could not figure out WHAT he was talking about, until I realized that he had thought he heard Bitty saying, "I HATE tractors!" and he had to have been deeply upset by her opinion, so much so that he had to pull off a Peter Pan-esque feat and have us all clap for the tractors. Clap if you believe in tractors!
Perhaps this isn't funny to anyone but me, but I'll always find it very endearing of our friend the tractor man.