Robby has been laying the charm on his Ohio relatives. Scott and I have both remarked how well-behaved he has been during the past few days. If he would only be this good when we are at home! Of course, then I suppose I wouldn't be provided with fodder for my blog!
Yesterday was the only day that we didn't have an agenda. We spent the morning lounging and playing around the yard. In the afternoon Scott and I packed up Robby and we went on an Ohio field trip. We went to a dairy farm with his cousins.
I should divulge that my suggesting the trip to the dairy farm had an ulterior motive. Our local Chick Fil-A offers free gift cards to families that pose with bovine during the summer months. Eh... did I mention that the majority of the family members must be dressed like cows?
Robby and I glued white spots onto one of Scott's black shirts. I put on a white top and black skirt. We printed and colored cow masks that we found on the Internet. Voila! We had our cow costumes. (Robby wanted to be a farmer so we gave him a pitch fork.)
Scott initially complained that I wasn't wearing any spots and that I didn't look “cow” enough. As soon as the cows marched past us to get milked, his complaints about my costume turned to snickers. I was covered with spots... of cow poo! If you ever visit a dairy farm, learn from my mistake and don't wear a white shirt, a cute little skirt and open toe sandals.
I was surprised by two things: the overwhelming smell that emanates from a dairy farm and how skinny the cows looked. I tried not to comment on the odor for fear of offending our hosts. Robby, on the other hand, was not as discrete. He and his cousins bantered about the smell for the duration of our field trip. The farmer simply laughed when he heard me fretting about the anorexic looking cows. Apparently all of the food the cows consume go into energy for milk production so milk cows don't get plump. Dairy cows don't get fat. I thought that was interesting.
Robby was impressed with the cows being milked, but he was truly in awe of the vast quantities of cow poop. They even had a machine to push the mounds of poop around the barn. Robby is insistent that someday he was going to drive the poop mobile. I assure you I will dress more appropriately if/when his dream is realized.
I've been running the numbers in my head, and I'm fairly confident that the gift card for
Chick Fil-A might cover the cost of the clothes and shoes that were decorated with feces. Oh well, at least Robby got his farm adventure and I learned all about cows.
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