When you don't have a farm at home to teach your kids how to work you have to go to those who do (aka my brother-in-law's family farm).
Working on the farm is pretty much the bees knees for my kids. I'm sure if they had consistent farming responsibilities they'd gripe like the best of them, but for now, novelty wins out.
Brigham got to ride a horse all day in the mountains with his cousins, herding sheep. When I heard that it was ONLY cousins and no adults, well, I was relieved that he came back alive. Somehow he managed well enough without spilling his secret (that I can count on my hands the number of times he's ridden). To say I was jealous is a gross understatement, and my jealous-self chuckled ever so slightly when he was sore as could be the next day. Shortly thereafter, the mother in me kicked into gear and I was ever-so sympathetic. Sore bums are no fun.
Early next morning they loaded the sheep onto trucks to take them out to the desert. And Lincoln--well, you know Lincoln--saw it more as a rodeo.