Son of a Bitch

Yesterday we decided to take a trip to the zoo. It was both mine and C's first visit and I believe I was more excited than he was. We woke up early and took the trek north then we arrived and the real fun began.

We got to the zoo and it started off with a pig rolling out the red carpet...it was cute but it gets better. We visit the elephants and take the trek through a few more exhibits and make it to the tigers. There's a big glass wall that lets you get super close to them and naturally I attempted to take a picture of C with the tiger in the background. After the 3rd failed attempt I hear S screaming "A, get him now." With a camera up to the eye of a mother and no tiger in sight my first reaction was we were all going to get mauled by this big fucking cat that looks agitated as hell as the small demonic humans were screaming and banging on the glass like a bunch of zombies. WRONG. My almost 3-year old son was screaming "Look at that big Son of a Bitch." Repeatedly. In the middle of a crowded exhibit. Thank You Papaw E for his wonderful vocabulary.

That was definitely my humor for the day, so I thought, until we went to Longhorn Steakhouse for lunch. C was eating his Kraft mac'n'cheese and French fries then all of a sudden he decides to share with the entire restaurant that he had to poop. Really bad, apparently, because he also shared with them that his "poop was coming out."

Yes, my son has a foul mouth, and no we don't laugh at/encourage him...but we're not mannered people and we have filthy mouths, dirty hands, and at least one cow poop stain on every article of clothing we own. My son may not say the prettiest words, but he'll be raised with a kind heart and practice respect.

Big White Ass...at 6:15AM

Early this morning I was graced with the presence of a cow's ass outside my window. Way to start the day, right?. This, of course, caused me to be wide awake and my natural reaction was to run outside and get her out.
So, here I am in my underwear and a tank top running off the porch like a pissed off german shepherd barking (not literally) at the cow to get out of the yard. I step off the porch and I'm running around the house and I'm yelling "HAAAAAA HAAAAA" because that's what I was taught...anyway...I'm yelling and turn the corner and BAM!!! BIG BLACK BULL. Seriously. The most frightening thing I've ever had happen to me was getting chased by a cow...and now I'm facing a HUGE FUCKING BULL that just so happens start doing that weird charge hoof-in-the-dirt thing and my brain decides to trip out on me and stop working therefore I'm stuck there face-to-face with this huge black bull. What happens? He start making the weird noise bulls make, then the heifer I was trying to chase out turns the corners and they both start running toward me and my body just tries to absorb into the siding of the house, it was painful in case you were wondering. After they pass I gain my composure and try to get them out of the yard, at this point S is standing on the porch watching, and the bull is standing by our Rose of Sharon grazing and the heifer tries to break through the wood plank fence. Nothing eventful happens after this as they both leave the yard.

I then get proper clothes on and go to town to get a few groceries, upon my return I'm driving down our driveway and one of the calves is grazing on a weed that we had chopped and it looks like one of those cartoon flowers with petal limbs and a flower head...            
Like this...

 

See, she has clearly decapitated this flower thing as well as cleanly amputated the right limb. Gotta love our homicidal cows.


Well, C is awake and he's attempting to jump on the dog so motherhood calls.