|Can you see me driving this? I will stick to my swagger wagon.|
I keep trying to explain to her, "Madison, there are no neighbors on a farm, and you are very social." She says, "Yes, but there are chickens."
What the heck am I doing to do with a da*m chicken, I ask you? I realize that I may not always find the time to talk to my friends, but I am not going to settle for chicken chat. Plus, we don't even go through a dozen eggs a week.... egg salad, egg Benedict, french toast, boiled eggs, scrambled eggs... rotten eggs!
When I tell you that this would be an extreme move, I am not exaggerating. Keep in mind that I actually live in a country club golf course community with about 700 homes. So, we would go from 700 homes with people everywhere to one home in the middle of the boonies, no neighbors in sight.... don't think so.
She wants to trade the golf balls for cow patties, the tennis courts for hay bales, and the swimming pool (with a water slide I might add) for feeding troughs. She says, "But it will be fun!".... Ummmm... and what do you call the tennis, pool, and golf?
As the story goes... she will keep asking, and I will keep saying for the umpteenth time, "Madison, we are NOT moving to a farm!"