Udder Lies

VanderVision Tip of the Day: If you don't like puns, you're reading the wrong blog. Puns are awesome. The end.

Cows aren't my favourite creature. Oh, they're all right to look at, and I can even get used to the smell given time. But there was this time when I walked past the fridge and my daughters' fridge magnet set MOOED at me. And then there was the time when Becca, who we affectionately call Becca-Boo decided that Mommy's nickname should be Mommy-Moo.

I was not impressed. But I laughed anyway, because I'm an awesome mom like that.

And really, it's a good thing I'm not overly fond of the creatures, because I have my tender-hearted side and really, I love me a good steak. If you'd asked thirteen-year-old Kimberly what her favourite food was, she'd have said "Filet Mignon." Because she had it one time for a special occasion and suddenly NOTHING ELSE COULD COMPARE. That may have been why I gave up on "real food" for most of my teenage-hood and survived off the contents of various school vending machines.

Good thing I learned how to cook. And I grill up a pretty fabulous steak these days.

Fast forward to today, when the cows in the meadow at the bottom of our hill were being very . . . vocal.

Becca: Mommy! Mommy! The cows are talking to each other!
Me: Um . . . yes. Yes. That's exactly what they're doing.

So I lied to my daughter today, stabbing one more gaping wound into my resolve to ALWAYS BE HONEST WITH MY CHILDREN (in retrospect, that may have been a stupid thing to resolve upon - but that's a blog post for another day). I'm bleeding regret, because what I should have said was something along the lines of, "Actually, when a boy cow REALLY likes a girl cow . . . "

Yeah. Stupid cows.

1 comment:

  1. do you speak cow? for all you know, they could have been also talking to each other whilst being amorous . . . I'm going with that explanation . . . lol