|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| You’ve heard of cow-eyed love – but what about cow-sided? |
|
|
|
You can text, e-mail and blog your feelings today. You can tell someone exactly how you feel without even seeing them face-to-face, and somehow it seems just a tad easier than staring them in the eyes and telling them your true feelings.
I’ve seen “I love you” in an e-mail, a text and on a whiteboard, but I have to say last weekend was the first time I had ever seen that sentiment expressed on the side of a cow!
Friday night I overheard Jake talking about the “I Love Mom” on Ruth’s side, but I didn’t pay much attention. You see, Jake talks nonstop. I’m not sure where he gets it from, but nonetheless, the kid never meets a stranger and is never short of conversation no matter who he’s visiting with.
Saturday morning I sanitized the lines, fed the calves and prepared to start milking. I walked in beside Ruth with the milker in hand and saw some hot pink marks on her side.
Thinking I was seeing things, I took stood back and took a second look. As I focused in on the black-sided cow, I could see the sentiment written on her side and it said: “I Love Mom.”
I was elated to read such a sweet sentiment at 5 a.m. I took a picture of it with my camera phone and then began to wonder who wrote it.
Automatically I assumed the author was my daughter. This was her style and it looked like her writing. When I asked her about it, she denied it – and I was back to cracking the case of the cow-side love-note.
Much like trying to figure out who hacked who on Facebook, I kept asking questions and finally got to the bottom of it. I approached J.W. about it and, of course, he played dumb at first.
But, after being tied to a chair with a bright light shining in his eyes, he finally came clean and admitted to being the paintstick-toting, love-note-writing bandit.
When J.W. was born, I was instantly frantic about how to deal with the teenage years. I would see a teenager in a store, glance down at my beautiful baby and wonder how in heaven’s name was I going to handle raising a teenager?
Nineteen years later and with four teenagers under one roof, I still wonder how to be a good parent and most days I feel more like I’ve failed rather than succeeded. But when I receive a special gift like the message on Ruth, it’s like catching a glimpse of God – and He’s giving me a reassuring wink and the promise that He’s got it all under control.
The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with comments for Melissa Hart may write to her in care of this publication. |
| 11/3/2010 |
|
|
|
|
