A Day in the Life of...With Goats

First they knocked over the hay tub. Then, fighting over their breakfast (Emerson always wants both bowls), they spilled grain and seed mix all over the deck. This apparently set a pattern, because - Look, brother, here she comes with our water bowl - let's get her! - and as Emerson crashed through the screen door in excitement, Elliot leaped onto a bench and lunged for the bowl, knocking off my glasses as water flew everywhere.

Three years ago I would have never have thrown things and stomped and shrieked like this, but I am a different person now, and the words spit effortlessly: "I HATE YOU BOTH!! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!! I HATE YOU WITH...WITH...WITH A THOUSAND HATES!!"

That's when I heard a gasp. Now, goats emit many unusual sounds, but I have never actually heard a goat gasp, and why are they both suddenly doing their best sweet-and-innocent imitation? Warily I turned around - oh, hi Megan...

Staring at the ranting and disheveled apparition who only vaguely resembled her mother, she was clearly disapproving. "A bit harsh, don't you think, Mom? Really? A thousand hates?"

Soaking wet, scented in eau de vinegar and against the background of the wreckage of our deck, I squinted at her through my now-crooked bifocals. "What? You think I should have said nine-hundred ninety nine?"

Ha! I knew she'd have no response if I used a math problem.

Come on, goat boys. Ellie still needs a betadine bath and I haven't cleaned out the shed yet...maybe Mommy can find you some dandelions to munch while I sweep. Life with goats...