Wednesday, September 24, 2008

It's a conspiracy.

I know it's actually not, but the fact that the City insists on tearing up the street in front of our house during nap time seems a little too much of a coincidence. The signs read "from 7-5", so you'd think the work would start bright and early. No, that's OK, we'll actually start 30 minutes after your daughter goes to sleep in the afternoon.

I know, that has nothing to do with pictures of pigs and goats, but it is what is going on at Chez Spaghettio today, so it's on my mind. I'm also dreading taking a shower, despite the clean and soft lululemon yoga pants awaiting me, because there's always the chance that running plumbing on the wall next to her head will also disturb her REM cycles, and you know, we just can't have that today.

But the goats! And the pig! Saturday we went on an outing to a real working farm, and got to do all sorts of neat things like gathering eggs and milking goats. My cynical side thought "Yeah, nice. We bring our kids to the farm, pay them, and then do all their work. There's a scam I'd like a piece of." And I'm here to report that I was totally and completely wrong. Because if you think a bunch of pre-schoolers are going to be good at gathering eggs and milking goats, then you are wrong, wrong, wrong. Dude, they are soft. Most of them wouldn't even touch the goat, much less the part that milk comes out of. And half of them are useless when it comes to hitching up a team of horses to a plow.

We really do spoil them. I think Scarlett would gain much character if she had a little more farm experience. To start, I think we'll have her chop up the remainder of the tree for firewood.

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