Frickin’ Annoying Men and The Enormous Wooden Spool

He cried a lot and got out of the dog run about half a dozen times and hung out at the fence and cried for the other goats until mom strapped the dog run gates together and that kept him in for sure.

We were supposed to introduce Bosco gradually so he didn’t fight with anyone, but he would just cry his sweet little cry at the gate and it broke our hearts, so we just finally let him out there. He did one headbutt with everyone. One, Two, Three. Then they all had a snack and everything was fine.

I found out an electric place was giving away those enormous, giant wooden spools. So I took the truck over there and tried not to back into the dock and then they rolled one into the bed. It was way bigger than I thought, and it made my giant, way-too-big-truck look like a Ford Ranger. I strapped it in there with two opposing gazillion pound straps until it didn’t move half an inch, and then of course some men had to come out to make sure the little-lady did it correctly before leaving.

Frickin’ Annoying Men.

“Um,” he said. “I hope that’s not staying here, sweetheart,” said my husband.

“It’s a new picnic table for the backyard,” I lied.

“Um,” he said.

“It’s playground equipment for Bosco. We can drop it off at Mom’s tomorrow,” I said.

And we drove through the windy valley with The Enormous Wooden Spool and hoped the howling wind didn’t turn over the truck and then we took the turnoff to Franktown Road instead of the highway To Make Sure We Didn’t Turn Over The Truck. We rolled the giant thing into Mom’s back 40 into just the right spot and I was very-pleased-with-myself.

Bosco just stared at me. Stared at his new playground.

Then he had another snack.