Bottle Baby

Well, Internet….what…it’s been 3 weeks since we moved to the farm? We’ve already got a calf that needs to be bottle fed. As in a cow sized bottle with a teat sized nipple. And a baby momma that doesn’t take kindly to people feeding her offspring. I guess baby momma isn’t making milk for the baby. So, I was sent last Sunday to the city of Eldon, Mo, to purchase calf formula. And it’s EXPENSIVE stuff! I wonder if they have bovine WIC or milk replacement food stamps or anything?

Baby cows (or calves as they are supposed to be called) are really cute. They aren’t all crusty with other cow’s shit yet. Their hide is soft and their little noses are wet like a dog’s. They frolic in the cooler evenings and like all babies, want to suck CONSTANTLY. Those poor cow momma’s. How it must be to have a several hundred pound baby suckling at your udder.

Son #2 broke his collarbone last Friday at the Mizzou Football Camp. Yeah, that was an experience. We took him to the Orthopaedic doctor on Tuesday for a follow up (after going to Urgent Care). And since I don’t have a flair for comedy or words, I won’t be able to artfully articulate what happened there. But is really was totally funny. A young man arrived in the room and introduced himself as the Ortho doctor’s resident. He reviewed Son #2’s x-ray, and turned to face him and asked (rather, confirmed) that it was the LEFT clavicle that was broken. He sat on the stool and proceeded to exam the RIGHT collarbone. For a second, I thought maybe he wanted to compare the non broken to the broken one, but it soon became apparent that he was going by HIS left and not my son’s left. I looked at Mr. P and his expression and immediately lost my cool. I laughed so hard that tears were streaming……belly was jiggling and generally making a complete FOOL of myself. Mr. P got tickled as did son #1. Nobody could regain their composure enough to TELL the resident that he was examining the GOOD collarbone! Finally, after getting kind of a bewildered look from the resident, I tried to stop laughing in this man’s face. I breathed; I bit my lip and finally settled down just a touch. Then, Mr. P finally composed himself to tell they guy he had examined the wrong bone, and I lost it AGAIN. It’s like laughing in Church…you know you shouldn’t….but you can’t help it. The ‘preacher’ (doctor) is giving you dirty looks and all it serves to do is make you laugh HARDER.

Then the real doctor arrived and we had to pretend like we hadn’t behaved like a pack of hyenas in front of his resident. That was 10 minutes of my life that I wish I could take back, FOR SURE.

So, what have YOU been up to? It’s been a rough few weeks at the Perfectly house, so my blogging has kind of waned a bit. Not that the fives of you would really miss it!

Anyway, Happy Friday….y’all KNOW how I love Friday nights!

Toodles for now!