The Boy likes to help. It’s a common theme here: he helps me mow, he helps us with the garden, he helps us in the kitchen. He just follows along behind and asks, “Can I help?” not expecting any answer other than the affirmative.
And we rarely say, “No.” Occasionally, we might be in a hurry and so we compromise: “How about you help clean up?”
Babcia, of course, is never going to say, “No.” But I wonder how this situation came about. Did she ask him if he wants to help grind — what is that? liver? are they working on pate? — or did he manage, “Babcia, moge pomoc?”
The rest of the pictures seem self-explanatory enough. A festival during a cold Sunday when temperatures were almost in the single digits (Centigrade, of course).
