My wife must really love me. How do I know this? Well, this morning I got a phone call from her shortly after I left for work. All of the goats were getting out, eating our trees, and being all-round naughty.
My mom up in Canada has dubbed all goat as "ill-behaved", but as a term of endearment. I have to agree. Their naughtiness is part of what makes them interesting and fun. However, it is not fun for your wife at 8:30 in the morning to be running around in her robe wrangling goats back into the pen.
Jenn isn't necessarily a farm animal gal, but she's working on it and definately being won over by the naughtiness, interesting-nature, and productivity of the animals we have.
One animal though may have regressed those sentiments. As she was getting the goats back in, a big nasty goose hissed at her (very common), and bit her on the back of the calf (not so common). Yes, my wife was bitten by a goose this morning in her bathrobe. The bite even left a big purple mark. So, yes, my wife loves me . . . enough to be my goatherd and goose chow.
Monday, March 26, 2007
She Must Love Me . . .
Posted by Chesno Slova at 8:23 AM
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2 comments:
Geese are t3h 3v0L! Do you remember Auntie Marcia's goose, Gisele? Pure evil, that creature.
I'll take my bread-begging ducks any day.
I knew when my sister married you, this would happen some day.
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