It’s Mothers’ Day:
& I truly feel like the Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe – what to do, with all these darn kids…?! They’re driving me mad.
There are thirty-eight of the little horrors causing havoc in the Dairy Complex, & I’m quite frankly fed up with their wicked antics. Every morning when I approach the building there isn’t just the innocent patter of those sweet, tiny feet; there’s the thunder of mischievous little hard hooves as they throw themselves from every available ledge & skitter-scatter up the corridor before whizzing in-&-out of the pens at breakneck speed, annoying their mums & leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.
Their agility is incredible.
Whilst asleep, goat kids seem so small & fragile; those little legs with those funny, furry ‘moon boot’ feet don’t look for a moment as though they could serve the owner with daring exploits including the ability to scramble up a near-vertical face of the hay & straw bale stacks at the north end of the barn; or to leap from great height & onto the floor without so much as a moment’s pause; or to run along the precipitous Dairy Complex rafters at great speed in order to nibble the rope which supports my tranquil set of deep-noted windchimes that keep our goats in mellow mood whilst enjoying their siesta cudding (& uses less electricity than a radio, as well).
The kids are also adept at relay races. Around a dozen at a time, will thunder around the perimiter track of the pens (required not only for access but also because our greedy goats would otherwise munch the beautiful Dairy Complex timbers with great glee, turning it into the vertiable Gingerbread House). These cheeky little kids gallop round at a flat-out pace before one flops, exhausted, to one side….only to ‘hand over the baton’ to another snoozing hooligan who promptly leaps up & joins in the game….& so on, & so forth. Admittedly, it’s hilarious to observe – & a rare episode of harmless fun.
However, they’ve discovered the pile of Tony’s workshop goodies he’d stashed away in a quiet corner, ready to install another set of our state-of-the-art caprine warm-water/frost-free drinking bowls when time permits. They’ve tipped up boxes of screws; opened & emptied all his socket sets; pulled pipe fittings from their packaging; & hidden vital elements of the installation throughout the nooks & crannies of their capacious caprine home. In fact talking of installations this now resembles a Modern Art Gallery, the kids have done such a good job: I’m thinking of adding captions to the various *ahem* exhibits. Not to mention their trashing of any open hay or straw bales & thus further achieving their devious aim of making my already taxing day, doubly arduous….
And it’s not like I need it, Today Of All Days. Having managed to foolishly get a hayseed stuck under my eyelid during the evening chores yesterday & being frankly too exhausted to attempt to clear it out, I woke feeling absolutely rotten; with a full-blown, excruciatingly painful, weepingly sore eye infection; blocked sinuses; & thumping headache to boot….so I really didn’t need the kids to go on this full-blown rampage, today.
However, they were determined to not permit me a single moment’s peace; as a record number of eight Little Horrors got firmly stuck behind the giant hay bales; in fact I nearly joined them at one point! One wee lad had fallen & wedged himself almost beyond reach, so I had to secure my boots beneath some baler twine to ease myself carefully down to retrieve him…until I inadvertently started slipping out of my wellies. I’d have been wedged there for weeks probably; just like a climber stuck in a crevasse. Lovely. Maybe I’d have resorted to gnawing off my own arm, just to survive…..ooohh, but what about the Leg of Kid I was clasping, on the menu instead….? He was the one that put me there, after all! But it doesn’t bear thinking about – too furry. Imagine needing a pee, whilst hanging upside-down; what a way to go…..(how do bats do it…?!)
Fortunately I managed to haul myself out in the nick of time – along with the aforementioned kid, who was (of course) none the worse for wear & just as cheekily obnoxious, as ever. But with my eye ragingly sore by this point, my body completely battered & bruised by the other kids’ onslaughts, & my physical & mental self, utterly exhausted by so much relentless punishment, this really felt like the Last Straw. Or Hay, actually; after all he got stuck behind the hay. Oh buggerit, who cares….?!
Meanwhile the Mums are looking truly Fed Up; & positively begging me to take their offspring away so that they can enjoy a little peace & quiet at last. Only then will they truly enjoy a Happy Mothers’ Day…..
And of course, I couldn’t conclude this post without humbly & gratefully tugging my forelock, to the most wonderful woman in the world, In My Humble Daughterly Opinion:
Happy Mothers’ Day to Brenda – my Most Wonderful Mum. xxx 🙂