Was re-reading a book for the first time in a couple of years and cracked up over the first half of the following sentence:
Before this whole goat rope started…
The last time I read this story was before we had goats and I can guarantee that trying to lead goats on a rope is pointless and hilarious if you aren’t the one holding the rope.
image: Cotton, from martha0stout’s phone
She stared at me without comprehension, not certain of what I was doing. My sister held her tightly to her chest, careful of her face and worried that we were frightening the poor dear.
I had other thoughts on my mind such as, I really hope that Cotton continues to suffer us to clean the mud out from between her little toes with more patience than she usually shows when near a sink full of water. She seems annoyed that dipping her paws into the water to work the thick mud out before we can use a rag to get out the rest is necessary.
But she suffered it without clawing our faces off and there were plenty of opportunities to do so.
There’s just something sadistically satisfying to hear my nephews’ friend shush them and tell them to keep reading. He wants them to finish their reading homework so that they can play and every time one of the boys gets distracted it makes it take longer.