Wednesday, September 21, 2011


Oren has an obsession with goats.

A friend of ours had baby goats and lambs this spring. Or maybe they were all lambs. It doesn't matter. We were at her house and Oren grabbed a bottle for one of the baby animals. A baby animal came running and Oren had an "oh shit" look on his face and immediately tossed the bottle. I believe that incident has scarred him for life.

Oren spotted a donkey or mule statue in our friend's neighbor's yard at our most recent visit. He pointed to the "goat", he talked about the goat biting him and he said that he was scared. I tried to explain that it was fake and unable to move, but I was unsuccessful. He was concerned about the goat the entire time we were there and paid no attention to the real goats that were near him while he was in the chicken coop.

Oren spotted a small screw driver tonight while we were in the office and immediately ran over and grabbed it. Screw drivers are precious objects in our house and to have found one without a sibling around was as close to bliss as Oren could have come in a day. Oren brought the screw driver over to me and asked to sit on my lap. Then we talked about goats for a solid 30 minutes. Our conversation went something like this:

Oren: Away
Me: Is someone going to take away your screw driver?
O: Uh huh. Goat.
M: No, the goat is not at our house.
O: Ap's.
M: Yes, the goat is at Abby's.
O: Bite. Off. (He said this while wildly gesturing and pulling at his finger)
M: No, the goat is not going to bite off your finger.
O: eye?
M: Nope, not your eye either.
O: cheek?
M : Nope, not your cheek.
O: (looking around on his body) Scab?
M: No, the goat does not want your scab.
O: Hold?
M: Do you want to hold the goat?
O: (thoughtfully) No, poop
M: Did the goat poop?
O: Uh huh, bleck

Then the conversation started over. And over. And over.

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