When I was eleven, my mother worked with a very cute, funny, gentle, younger man named John. He was not too tall, not too short, had curly blondish-brown hair that touched the top of his shoulders and a very kind soul. From the eyes of two little girls, my sister and I, he was just perfect and we adored him. The fact that he owned goats just added to his attractiveness because we loved animals.
Mom did not and does not care very much for animals.
Maybe I should say that again…Mom does not like animals and really, really does not like goats.
John was over all the time and spent hours in the swimming pool teaching us to swim. After my parents divorce we were all a bit “fragile” and John helped us forget all the heartache with his laughter. I was always trying to get him to stay longer hoping that mom would just swoon at his feet. We just loved being around his happy personality. In many ways his spunky, young attitude was like his little goats and that’s a compliment.
One day, mom wasn’t home and there was a knock on the patio door at the apartment where we lived. I could see through the white sheers that it was John and so I slid the door open. When I did, little goats were all over the patio and they walked into the living room making a funny little noise.
We were so excited! As a matter of fact, we were so lost in the moment that we TOTALLY forgot about mom’s impending arrival. John had also brought a bunch of bottles for us to feed them. Our excitement with those fuzzy little creatures was almost tangible.
You know what happened next.
The living room was filled from wall to wall with baby goats, my sister, John and me…and then mom got home. I won’t ever forget the shocked horror on her face when she saw the new petting zoo located in her home. John, with his perfectly straight white teeth, flashed her a helpless smile. She couldn’t be mad at him too much because we were SO HAPPY.
I don’t know if mom ever read him the riot act, but that day with us she just acted funny trying not to touch the goats too much or fuss at the drips of milk on the shiny hardwood floor. Eventually, John rounded up the goats, put them in the truck and drove off.
We all still talk about that day with fondness. It was one of those moments when everyone was lost together and nothing else mattered. As I grew older and realized the effort it took for John to bring the goats over and for Mom not to freak out, I decided that I wanted to be that type of person if I could ever have a child. I think Alyssa would tell you that I have freaked her out instead with some of the wild things we have done together. The experience “together” is really the most important moments in your life. Everything else really doesn’t matter.
Imagine about ten of them in your living room acting exactly like these little goats in this short clip. How good of a mommy would you be?