Saturday, June 18, 2011

A Cow And Some Butt

Our family drinks, on average, seven gallons of milk per week. Seven gallons.

We have 3 gallons of milk delivered on Tuesday, and by Friday, I'm buying milk at the grocery store. More than once I've teased Deborah that we just need to put a milk cow out back.

After dropping the kids at summer camp on Wednesday morning, I was driving up the street to our house when I notice a young cow trotting past the front of the house. Just in the middle of the road, lazily trotting past our house. I'm thinking, "Did Deborah buy a cow online?," and then I thought "nah, it must be a scout locating the big users."

I didn't have my camera with me, and I wasn't quick enough with my phone, so I didn't get a picture. Which I know means that it didn't happen...but I swear there was a cow in front of our house on Wednesday morning. I'm from Texas. I've been called Bubba all my life. I've herded cattle. I know a cow when I see one.

I mowed the front yard today, so I also know that if the scout was trying to leave a message, I didn't step in it.

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I always want to keep life interesting, so on Thursday I googled "female butt anatomy." I was looking for a new way to compliment Deborah. I came up with a text message that ended, "p.s. I love your gluteal sulcus."

As expected, her response was, "huh?" Later, while sitting on the porch swing with Deborah, I showed her the wiki page with a picture of a generic female gluteal sulcus. She grabbed my phone and continued with the section on "intergluteal cleft."

And lots of other pages with pictures of male glutes.

Before the night was over, half of our household was pulling up/down their shorts to show mom their butt and have their gluteal sulcus identified.

Like I always say, "Carpe diem bootay."

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