The Herd at our House

I don't know that I've mentioned it before, but Kathleen has some imaginary friends.  This is pretty normal for toddlers, I know.  Here's what's a little out of the ordinary: they're cows.  This friendship developed months and months ago.  It started with just one cow, but it grew into a whole family -- Mama Cow, Daddy Cow, and Baby Cow.  The cows show up for tea parties and during craft time.  Sometimes they require their own craft or tea or what-have-you, but generally they're simply happy to observe.

Kathleen sometimes becomes a little upset if we've left the house without talking about the cows.  Occasionally she'll worry that we've left them behind, but usually she'll just notice them on the side of the street as we're driving.  "Mama!" she'll yell, "The cows!  They're in the street!"  At that point, I'm expected to roll down my window, stick out my arm, and call out encouragement to the cows, who have to jump up so that I can grab them and pull them into the moving car.  Daddy Cow jumps first; he requires little encouragement.  Mama Cow is a bit slower, and so requires some more forceful urging.  Obviously, it's a pretty big jump for a Baby Cow (Is that obvious?  How big are these cows?  That's not clear.  They do all fit in the Versa...), but he always makes it, too.   It is fortunate that we live in California, where my gesturing and yelling merely blends into the tapestry of crazy drivers.  When the cows are all safely in the car, I roll up my window and Kathleen exclaims, "Cows!  My's so happy to be here with you!" 

This week the cows started appearing at the front door.  We were eating breakfast when Kathleen first alerted me to their presence, and I left the table to go open the door and invite them in.  (Kathleen had to correct me, because I shut the door before all three cows could enter.  Honestly, what sort of hostess am I? )   We'd nearly finished eating when Kathleen informed me that there were more cows at the door.  

"Really?" I asked, "Are you sure?  Because I thought all the cows came in -- Mama Cow, Daddy Cow, and Baby Cow.  There can't be any more cows left out there."

"No, Mama. Cows.  Cows at the front door," she insisted.

"Kathleen, who are all these cows?  We've got the cows with us right here, honey."

"The brown cows, Mama," she replied, frustrated with my inability to see the obvious.

We repeated the process for the brown cows.  And then the pink cows.  And then the green cows.  I'm not sure how they all fit, but they did.

We'd love to have you come visit, too.  Just call, though, so I have time to move the cows off the sofa.