The other night around 10:30 I was in my room getting ready for bed when I decided to text my mother, who was watching a show downstairs with Dad, and give her some awesomeness. And this is how it went.
Me: “Ed Truck is dead. And it makes me feel like someone has taken my heart and dropped it in a boiling bucket of tears, and then hit my soul in the crotch with a frozen sledgehammer. And then a third guy comes up and punches my grief bone. And I’m crying. But no one can hear me because I am terribly…terribly alone.”
Mom: Poor Michael.
Me: You stink at this game.
Mom: I guess.
Me: You don’t even play it.
Mom: Maybe I do.
Me: No you don’t. You should ask Wes or Taylor how to play.
Mom: I think we should keep a milk cow in one of the upstairs bedrooms.
Me: That’s basically the lamest idea I’ve ever heard.
Mom: I think your room will be sufficient. Plus you always said you wanted to love on a farm.
Me: I said I wanted to LIVE on a farm, not bed with a bovine, Mom.
Mom: No, you won’t have to share your bed.
Me: …can it be a mini cow?
Mom: Sure. Why not.
Me: Pocket sized edition?
Mom: No. Pocket-sized cows are mythical.
At least the ones that give milk are.
Me: Dagnabbit. I can’t figure out where I’d put it. I don’t think it’d fit under my bed with Jack. Maybe I could get rid of my giant beanbag and we could make that corner a pen for it.
Me: I get to name it. And take it with me when I get married and move out. You get to pay for it and it’s food and pet it twice a day.
Unless it’s annoying. Then I’ll leave it here.
Just like I’ll eventually do with my kids.
Mom: Make that a rabbit.
Me: NO. I do NOT want a rabbit.
Me: That’s like the dumbest idea EVER. Even worse than that time you wanted me to dress up like a Who-ville character for halloween.
Mom: So you do want a rabbit?
Me: Nope. Sure don’t.
Mom: I’m confused.
I don’t understand why you hate farms.
Me: Rabbits aren’t for farms, Mom. Rabbits are for being chased out of bushes by my dog. Cows, horses, goats, sheep, and chickens are farm animals. And lotsa cats and a handful of dogs. But I could live without the chickens.
Remember how I always said I was going to marry a horse trainer?
Apparently we’re getting a cow and I’m keeping it in my room. This should be interesting.
And for the record, I don’t still plan on marrying a famous horse trainer.
Even though I sure wouldn’t be complaining iffen I did.