Saturday, we took the kids to a local dairy farm for Family Day. It was 93 degrees outside. My half vampire kids were roasting in the sun. We showed up, and in the space of about an hour, bought milk, got a hot dog, listed to a Johnny Cash song, pet some baby cows, took some pictures, ate some cotton candy and got the fuck out to some place with both shade and air conditioning.
I love milk, I really do, but I HATE other people and their families and mostly just people.
The free hot dog and sweet tea was really nice. I felt appreciated, and then I felt a little sick because it was over 90 degrees outside and I was carrying around a couple of quarts of extremely warm root beer flavored locally produced glass bottled milk. Turns out, even the kids can't handle warm milk. Probably for the best, since they just get stickier the more milk they drink.
My kid proclaimed it the "best day ever." Seriously, though, their standards are lower than a bunch of drunk fraternity brothers, God bless them. Load up my sweet fluorescent orange kiddos with even a hint of sugar and some artificial color and suddenly they're rolling. They might as well be on ecstasy. "I LOVE YOU! THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER! HOLY SHIT THOSE COWS COME IN AWESOME PATTERNS! MOO! MY MOUTH IS SO DRY! IS YOUR MOUTH DRY!?! I LOVE YOU FUTURE HAMBURGERS!"
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