History Repeats Itself

About 15 years ago, I had a little cowboy. Well, sometimes he was a cowboy, and sometimes he was Timmy Martin, with his faithful dog Lassie. I'd have to be Ruth Martin and he'd ask me for a sandwich and a glass of milk so he could have a lunch just like Timmy on the TV. But he was sometimes a cowboy, too, with a horse and a bent stick in his homemade holster for a gun.

That little boy grew up and is in college now, but now I have another Timmy Martin asking me to be Ruth Martin and make a sandwich and glass of milk, and I hear yells of, "LASSIE!" ("woof woof!") "LASSIE!"

And now the chaps, boots and cowboy hat are being used again . . . only this time, it's a little girl, and she wants to be Roy Rogers. I like how the smiles are almost identical.


And this is ten years ago, when I had three cowboys: