grandfathers and 3-year-old boys are natural buddies1. on this particular day in may, the grandfather was pleased to have the company of his best little pal2 when planting the vegetable garden. for a while, the boy seemed to like it too. his small fingers were just the right size to pick up tiny seeds and * them into granddad-made holes. they were a great team.
but before long the boy became restless and directed his irritation3 at the seeds themselves.
"what's this one, granddad?"
"beets4."
"ugh, i hate beets."
"well, then, let's do the zucchini instead."
"yuck. i really hate zucchini."
"okay, buddy5. what would you like to plant?"
"how about . . . doughnuts?"
just in time, the grandfather stopped himself from saying there was no such thing as a doughnut seed. looking at the unhappy little face, he suddenly got an inspiration.
"wait a sec. i have to go inside and get the right seeds."
granddad returned with a handful of cheerios. he and the small boy solemnly planted them in a special corner of the vegetable garden.
weeks later, when the real seeds began to break through the soil, the boy became entranced with the tiny seedlings6. he spent many afternoons *ing7 granddad water and hoe and watch them grow. and when the first baby vegetables were harvested, he liked them after all.
for weeks, he forgot all about the doughnuts. but then one day at lunch, he said, "grandad, what happened to our doughnuts? how come they didn't grow."
grandad paused a moment. "well, you know, doughnuts are tricky8. some years when you plant them, you get lots of doughnuts." he sighed sadly. "but other years, all that comes up are the holes."
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