"T" is for Trace (and tractors)

This kid is something else. There's lots and lots wrapped in this little package. He's a hot head. He's lovable. He's dad's shadow and my best friend. He's as rotten as the day is long. He holds his own, day-in and day-out, surrounded most of the time by only women. He's mine.

He's also tractor-obsessed. As in, he will sit and look at books detailing tractors, trucks and construction equipment for as long as I'm willing to read about engines, scoops and wheels. His latest hobby is riding along a stretch of road that's being widened to take in the backhoe sights and dump truck work (yes, he asks that we take this scenic route despite our destination).

He reached the holiest of grails, however, on Monday during our visit to the Allen County Fair. Farm machinery companies hoping to draw in some business were the ultimate jackpot for my little dude. He found heaven in the newest, shiniest of tractors galore.

Green, red, white or brown ... he doesn't discriminate and was smitten with them all. And, thus, proceeded to climb upon every one in sight (literally, not figuratively). Some were even paid a second visit, holding a special place in his International Harvester-loving heart for being just like Papa's (only newer).

He gladly passed up the fair's petting zoo to climb aboard mowers and Bobcats (which he powered himself with motor noises). After test driving them all, he was ready to put them through a second round ... we were only able to move on with the promise of checking out some chainsaws.