The fenceline

Little Willie was working really hard and had been for the last six hours.  The huge thunder storm and subsequent down pour had knocked down the fence line on the north end of the Johnson property and Willie's father had asked him to re-dig the post holes and repair the fence.

So work Willie did.  Willie was having a problem though.  The spoon he was using to dig, kept bending.  He would get one or two scoops before he had to straighten the spoon. By lunchtime his father came out to check on his work and call him in to eat.

"Hello son," his father said as he approached. "What are you doing with the spoon?"  "I'm digging like you asked," Willie replied with a sigh.  "It's taking much longer than I'd expected though."  "But son," his father continued, "it's a spoon.  Why aren't you using the post hole digger and shovel I gave you?  You saw them, didn't you?" "Yes, father.  I saw them," the boy responded, sighing again. "It's just that they are so heavy and seem like something an adult would use.  I thought this might work better."

That evening, after dinner, Willie returned to the barn, to feed the still penned up cattle.  The cows couldn't be let out to graze until the fence was repaired.  And at the rate Willie was moving, it would be awhile.