Randy Farmer's son needed extra credit.

So he told his son's teacher he could convince a geography class that the world is flat.

His arguments: every map you've ever seen is flat.

A globe does not count as a map.

If it did, you could cut it apart and lay it flat.

Half the students went home believing him. And his child went home with extra credit.

Family life started for Randy Farmer 40 years ago when he married Cheryle Amburn. Together they had five children - Brenda, Brian, Bradley, Brent and Brittany. The first two matching names were purely coincidence but by the third child the couple decided to stick with the "Br" theme.

Over the years, Farmer juggled a growing family with his career as president and owner of Steel Structures. He cheered at - and coached - his share of soccer games, bandaged his share of scraped knees and has seen more than his share of bee stings.

Today, the Farmer's celebrate their dad and all of his lessons on Father's Day.

On a family vacation in Boise, Idaho, the three Farmer boys were throwing rocks into a lake when Brent reached for a wasp nest. Farmer rushed to help his boys, slapping the bugs away from their faces, while his wife and daughter screamed from a distance. Each boy was stung upwards of 30 times, and Farmer himself sported more than 100 welts. Now the family laughs about it, recalling what onlookers must have thought upon witnessing a father swatting at his three screaming children.

If there's one thing the Farmer family knows how to do well, it's laugh.

"He used to go to Taco Bell and ask for a pile of tacos, and he'd just bring home whatever they thought a pile was," said Brian Farmer, 35. "He has always had that offbeat sense of humor."

Brian works as the policy and planning manager for the Wyoming Department of Corrections and lives with his wife and three children in Cheyenne.

All of the kids are in their 30s and raising families of their own throughout Wyoming, Colorado and Utah. But Farmer now has the joy of teaching - and teasing - his eight grandchildren.

"You can give the grandkids suggestions, so they act like their parents when they were kids," he said with a grin. "You can tell them to collect worms or bugs and put them in their pockets, or make weird noises at the dinner table."

The families don't see each other as much as they would like, but Randy and Cheryle make it a point to visit their kids at least once every other month.

Even though the miles are long, father and children remain close. He no longer has to save them from hundreds of angry wasps. Now he plays the role of friend and supporter.

Just like any father, Farmer is proud of his children and is content to simply spend time with the family he has raised.

But there's one child he'll never see again. Brittany, his youngest daughter, was born with cerebral palsy and was unable to walk or speak. She died when she was 11 years old.

Farmer said that it was easy being a father to her. A very loving child, she was always willing to please and be pleased. He remembers that she used to take pens and keys out of passing pockets and loved being the center of attention.

"No matter how frustrated or angry or upset my dad was, Brittany could always make him smile," said Brenda Fedor, Farmer's oldest child. "My parents just loved her so, so much. She taught us a lot about unconditional love."

Reach Riane Menardi at (307) 266-0610 or riane.menardi@trib.com