Hey there, thanks for stopping by. Today's post won't offer you an enlightening message. It probably won't teach you a lesson. It's just a true (albeit embarrassing) story from a girl who grew up on a farm. Enjoy!
Every cow was in the corral – except one – and I knew what that meant. Even if my parents had to walk the entire 80 acres of pasture and dense timber, they had to find that cow.
My little legs would only slow them down, so my job was to stay in the truck and keep watch. Mom gave me strict instructions.
“Now if the momma cow comes up, you need to honk the horn. Then we’ll know we can stop looking and start heading back.” Mom gave me stern look. “But DON’T honk that horn unless the momma cow shows up. Got it?”
My little legs would only slow them down, so my job was to stay in the truck and keep watch. Mom gave me strict instructions.
“Now if the momma cow comes up, you need to honk the horn. Then we’ll know we can stop looking and start heading back.” Mom gave me stern look. “But DON’T honk that horn unless the momma cow shows up. Got it?”
My throat felt thick as I watched my parents disappear into the timber, leaving me alone with a bunch of cows.
At first I sat in the truck. I snooped through the glove compartment, but found nothing interesting.
I hopped out of the truck, climbed over the tailgate and scrambled into the back. Then I looked out at the crowd of cows and took a deep breath.
“So how ya’all doing today?”
They stared at me, silent.
At first I sat in the truck. I snooped through the glove compartment, but found nothing interesting.
I hopped out of the truck, climbed over the tailgate and scrambled into the back. Then I looked out at the crowd of cows and took a deep breath.
“So how ya’all doing today?”
They stared at me, silent.
Tough audience.
I grabbed a corn cob and held it like a microphone. “I want to thank you all for coming.”
They continued to stare. Two or three chewed on some grass.
I cleared my throat and pretended to flip my long, Chrystal Gale’ish hair. I imagined myself in a tight, sparkly dress with a slit up the side. Before I knew it, I was singing my heart out.
“You … you light up my life … You give me hope … to carry on … you light up my days …”
One cow near the back relieved himself.
I threw my hands on my hips. “Don’t like that, huh? Well how about this one?”
I grabbed a corn cob and held it like a microphone. “I want to thank you all for coming.”
They continued to stare. Two or three chewed on some grass.
I cleared my throat and pretended to flip my long, Chrystal Gale’ish hair. I imagined myself in a tight, sparkly dress with a slit up the side. Before I knew it, I was singing my heart out.
“You … you light up my life … You give me hope … to carry on … you light up my days …”
One cow near the back relieved himself.
I threw my hands on my hips. “Don’t like that, huh? Well how about this one?”
Snapping my fingers, I danced around the back of the truck.
“Love … Love will keep us together … Think of me babe, whenever ... Some sweet talkin’ girl comes around ...”
For the next several minutes, I belted out song after song. I sang some ABBA ...
“Knowing me, knowing you, Uh-huhhhh … There is nothing we can do, knowing me, knowing you ....”
Still no reaction, so I stomped my feet and clapped my hands to: “We will, we will, ROCK YOU!”
Finally, I plopped onto the side of the truck. Mom and Dad had been gone a long time. I was tired. And hungry. And very much alone. Why couldn’t that momma cow just show up?
“Love … Love will keep us together … Think of me babe, whenever ... Some sweet talkin’ girl comes around ...”
For the next several minutes, I belted out song after song. I sang some ABBA ...
“Knowing me, knowing you, Uh-huhhhh … There is nothing we can do, knowing me, knowing you ....”
Still no reaction, so I stomped my feet and clapped my hands to: “We will, we will, ROCK YOU!”
Finally, I plopped onto the side of the truck. Mom and Dad had been gone a long time. I was tired. And hungry. And very much alone. Why couldn’t that momma cow just show up?
I took a deep breath and crawled into the front seat of the truck. With both hands, I pressed hard against the horn. The cows jumped a bit, startled. I honked it again. And again.
About five minutes later the momma cow came walking up the path toward the corral. And my parents were right behind.
Mom shook her head in disgust. “We told you not to honk unless the cow came up. Why did you honk the horn?”
I knew I’d done wrong, but what could I say? Mom wouldn’t understand. Truth was, I was a fabulous singer, but it was ever-so-boring keeping company with cows.
About five minutes later the momma cow came walking up the path toward the corral. And my parents were right behind.
Mom shook her head in disgust. “We told you not to honk unless the cow came up. Why did you honk the horn?”
I knew I’d done wrong, but what could I say? Mom wouldn’t understand. Truth was, I was a fabulous singer, but it was ever-so-boring keeping company with cows.
