A Crack Up

Last night at swim practice, one crazy dad and son I always enjoy appeared for the first time this year. The dad, Merk, boasts a free spirit, a gentle heart, and country boy attitude to the core. He has his own engaging language and way.
Me: "You got a garden this year, friend?"
Merk: "True, does a bear poop in the woods?"
Me: "Well, where else would a bear poop?"
Merk: "We're eating broccoli the size of tires from our garden."
Me: "Got a problem with my yellow squash shriveling on the vine."
Merk: "Needs calcium. Get the tablets at the co-op and work 'em into the soil."
Me: "With what?"
Merk: (with a growing evil grin) "Hoe around, like you always do."
Me: "Nice."
Merk: "How are all them boys of your doing?"
Me: "Good. Is your boy still sweet, or is he mean like you yet?"
Merk: "Darlin', there are two things that ruin a boy. Gasoline and perfume. He hasn't smelled either yet."