I don't know whether to be proud of worried that my six year old can tell the difference between a Rome and a Staymen.
Or that my four year old is now proficient in pocket knife skills alongside his big brother and dad when it comes to carving out a taste of a fresh picked apple.
Or that my two year old chants "apple pie and apple sauce" while sinking apples in our wagon like a shot from the foul line.
But I guess when you make apple picking a yearly "must-do or it isn't really going to be a successful fall", kids will finely hone their apple know how.
This year Harrison beat his record for how high he could climb to reach the perfect apple.
And Wilson beat a record for how many apples you can humanely consume in a two hour time span.
And Jefferson got to carry and use a pocket knife for the first time. This is a big deal in our house.
It's like the rights of passage into apple picking manhood around here. Once you reach a certain age, dad presents you a pocket knife the night before the trip.
The next morning you slide it proudly into your jean's pocket and head to the orchard where you launch into apple carving manliness and provide samples for tasting.
This year's apple picking trip was cold and sunny, yet filled with a ton of great memories and laughs of tree climbing, apple throwing, and boy chasing through rows of trees.
It provided another opportunity to take this picture of growing legs and bigger feet as boys become men in more ways than just packing a pocket knife.
And it provided these growing boys plenty of reward for their apple picking skills with pies, crisps, sauce, and muffins. Now excuse me while I go cry over pictures of last year's tiny little feet sitting on the edge of that truck.