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Cow Wars

Families unravel over so many things. Some families fall apart over money. Other times, outside interests can interfere with family life, creating strife. Now and then, it’s the general malaise of life that can cause discord in a family. None of these are ailing my family. My family is having fits. But the root of our problems is, well, a cow.

Longtime readers will know that cows have played a significant role in my life since my wee years. As a young impressionable child living in the oh-so-wilds of Westchester County, I had a paralyzing fear of cows. “Scared cow,” I’d tell my folks, worried that somehow one of those tremendous farms creatures would find its way into my second floor, dormered room in the not-even-remotely rural suburbs of New York City. My parents would have to demonstrate that the cows were merely shadows on the wall or figments of my imagination. At the ripe old age of three, though, I shed my fear of cows when my newborn sister was brought to live in my room. “The Tweedle Twirp will protect me from cows,” I wisely said, and I suppose it worked; a cow has not bothered me since my younger sister was born.

Over the years, though, the cow has remained a prominent figure in my world. I have to take many pictures of myself in front of cows to prove to my father that, yes, I am over my phobia.

Flash forward to two years ago. At the now-infamous New Year’s eve Yankee swap, my mother received a cow. Not just any cow: a cow that sits on a shelf in the fridge and moos every time you open the door. My mother dutifully put the cow in the fridge, which annoyed the hell out of my father, but amused me greatly every time I came home. What an amazing thing! A cow that mooed at me! “I wish I had a cow like that!” I said this year on our visit. “It can be arranged,” my mother said.

Sure enough, when the package we send ourselves after vacation arrived (full of the gifts the kids received and all our summer-y clothes), nestled among the bathing suits was the cow.

Oh joy! I immediately put the cow in the fridge. From two rooms away I can hear it moo and it still makes me giggle. Not so much my family, though. “OMG! I HATE THAT COW!” Pie yells. “Mom, seriously. Can we get rid of the cow?” Doodles begs. “That cow is going to come to an unhappy ending,” Adam threatens. “Don’t be surprised if you wake up one morning with a cow head next to you.”

The cow is driving a wedge between me and my family. But in the battle between family and cow, the cow will prevail!

Admit it. You wish you had one, too!

2 Comments

  1. Alicia wrote:

    Just catching up on your blog and I love the cow, not sure why the rest of your family does not feel the same

    Monday, January 23, 2012 at 5:11 pm | Permalink
  2. Jenny wrote:

    Be careful, Alicia. I know where you live. That cow could mysteriously show up in *your* fridge!

    Monday, January 23, 2012 at 5:17 pm | Permalink