Cows on the Interstate.

Not free roaming on the interstate, riding in a trailer. But we got to follow them all the way to Walmart, and thank goodness for that.

See, I'm not the only crabby lady around here. Celia is also mean, crabby, and generally out of control. She's got a pretty good excuse....she is trying to grow some new molars. I, on the other hand, I'm just growing some extra padding around my hips from the excessive amount of chocolate and ice cream that it takes to get me just through the day at this point.

So my crabby mini-me is strapped in her seat, yelling first about her lack of a sippy cup, then her inability to remove and replace her bug boots, then that her hands hurt (well stop chewing them!) and only stopping short of spinning her head completely around on her shoulders.

I'm in the front seat, seething with crabbiness at even having to take a toddler to Walmart and wondering if I should just drive the extra 20 minutes to Target (I'll save you another Walmart rant and just say I should have driven the extra 20 minutes).

Then we pull up behind some cows.

Hallelujah!

Because while we are both mean and crabby girls, we both still see the humor in cows being trucked along at 60 mph. They even got off our exit! We got to sit behind them at the stoplight and talk to the cows, laugh as those poor sweet cows wiggled and jiggled and tried to keep their balance around the turns.

Thank you God, for cows....and thank you cows, for just being cows. Moo y'all.