How much is TOO much to see a cow?

"What shall we do during your visit?" my friend, Sarah debated. I opted for couch/screen time (I was becoming an enthusiastic fan of Daniel Tiger and Puppy Patrol) but was quickly vetoed. "I know!" she decided, "We'll go to the farm!" I sighed. We've already been through this. Remember "Big Trucks at the Library Day?"

Alright. If this was the price I'd have to pay for getting to hang out with Sarah and her kids, Will and Nora, I would keep my comments (mostly) to myself.

So I hopped in my truck and left my county filled with more cows than people, passing hordes of horses and gaggles of goats along the way. I arrived at Sarah's and we packed up the kids and a picnic before heading to "the farm." "The quotation marks demonstrate that you didn't even TRY to go into this adventure with an open mind," Sarah accused. I admit that I did roll my eyes as we passed the sign welcoming us to "The Farm." I didn't even argue about Sarah paying my admittance fee to enter the paddock of assorted sheep and goats. There was NO WAY I was going to pay to pet a goat when I could walk fifty feet down my road to pet one for free.

It was next that I had to again come to grips with Sarah's fatal flaw. It has been a bone of contention throughout our entire friendship. Other than her relentless insistence of trying to get me to eat healthy, Sarah is practically perfect in every way except this: She isn't all that fond of animals. Shocking, I know. Believe me, I've had YEARS of learning to cope with being friends with a non-animal lover. Who doesn't melt at the sight of a baby duck? Sarah. Whose fingers don't itch to pet a puppy? Sarah.

To her credit, she is trying to NOT pass this terrible trait on to her children but I'm not sure how successful she's been so far. I happily dove into the hay mow to hug a baby goat. While I was showering kisses on a sheep, Will and Nora were watching with alarm. Sarah, on the other hand, was questioning the bulging sides of a nanny goat. Spying the conspicuous udders, I told her it was pregnant. "No," she insisted, "It looked exactly like that last time." I was dubious about her ability to differentiate livestock from visit to visit but stayed (mostly) quiet as she sought answers to her question.

"Excuse me, farm worker," she called as I cringed, "Why does this goat look like that?"

"It's fat," the woman told her bluntly.

"Is it nursing?" I asked.

"Yes."

"So it was recently pregnant," I said indignantly, "And just hasn't dropped the baby weight yet." Shame on us for criticizing her. It's not like she doesn't have enough to be worried about without a bunch of strangers judging her appearance.

After I had pet all of the animals in the...let's just call it what it is...petting zoo, we wandered into a barn where a bunny was being housed in a horse stall. It looked absolutely ridiculous but I have to say the little guy appeared pretty happy with his roomy digs.

"What's in that barn over there?" I asked Will.

"Cows," he told me sadly, "but we can't go in there."

"Why not?"

Looking at his mom, he whispered, "It costs more."

"It costs MORE to see the cows?" I asked in amazement. What world was I in right now? "Sarah, you DO remember where I live, right?"

We ate our picnic (Sarah smathering hand sanitizer all over the children even though they hadn't touched ANYTHING) before heading back to the house. Finally...Puppy Patrol. The type of animal Sarah's family likes best: Animated with a moral lesson. My lesson? Why "buy" the privilege of seeing the cow in the city when you can see it for free at home?