We're really lucky. When Kris is gone, my dad is willing to help out. (The first time we left the farm on vacation, I asked Kris if he'd called dad to see how things went. Kris said, "It's kind of a strange question. Hey, did everything go okay on the farm you ran by yourself for 30 years?")
I called my dad to ask how everything went today.
"Well, none of the cows died," he said. "That was good."
I laughed. "That is good," I agreed.
"Of course, all I did was feed them this morning. They could have all died this afternoon, for all I know."
So, Kris is having a good time, the cattle are alive, and my dad is still funny.
Well, he's funny as long as they're really not dead.