"I'm going to miss the cows," I sobbed on the phone to husband Paul.
Taken out of context, this statement may appear a bit odd, if not completely random. The cows in question are those whose domain backs up to our backyard. When we first moved into our current home, we were informed that the expansive property of open field behind us belonged to a farmer. It may seem weird , that inspite of this knowledge I was actually perplexed one morning when I was alerted to a rather loud nasally/gutural noise coming from outside in the backyard. Low and behold; I had my first of many cow-sightings.
After the birth of first child Laura, cow appeal in the Davis household increased tremendously. On pretty spring days like today--wind blowing through trees and grass, the two of us would venture right up to our fenceline. "Ahhhh," cooed the wide-eyed baby on my hip. When she could talk in full sentences (which was almost right out of the womb), Laura would periodically provide commentary on the cows from her booster seat in the kitchen. "Mommy," she'd exlaim, "that cow out there is peeing." Or one of my other favorite stories was Grandma Kim's discovery of our neighborhood cows. As Grandma Kim relays it, Laura kept trying to convince Grandma Kim that cows were in our backyard. "Oh, you're so silly," Grandma replied, "you want to pretend there are cows in your backyard?"(Laura has a very active imagination). But after repeated insistance from Laura that cows were in our backyard, Grandma Kim finally looked out the kitchen window to discover...cows were indeed in the backyard--or at least close enough.
The other day as we rode past the pasture (the same one that backs up to our property), Laura shouted, "Mommy look--big fat guys!" toward a few straggler cows only a few feet from our minivan. Though incorrect in gender, she got the plump part right anyhow.
The twins are just now catching on that creatures are stirring in our backyard and from time-to-time they'll excitedly shout, "Moo-moo" in unison.
When I shared my story of sobbing about cows to a very dear friend of mine, she said, "Oh Erin, you have to write about it. Even though you might thinkg it's silly, it's important to write about those cows before you move. It's important to remember every detail and reason why you were crying about those cows you love in Kansas City."
I sure will miss those "Big Fat Guys," but you all know it's not really about the cows...right?