AnchorMommy

Mad for cows, “nipples” and all

August 3, 2009 by Shannon

I never thought I would share an obsession with a two-year-old. But recently, I spent about two hours of my life driving around pastures, looking for cows. 

Kellan’s interest in them is piqued because they’re featured in so many of his favorite books, like Big Red Barn, Time for Bed and Goodnight Moon. My interest is due to a magazine article I’m writing. Ever heard of “Oreo” cows? Neither had I, so I thought it would be a fun assignment. (Come to find out, they were nearly impossible to locate in my area, which made writing about them for a local magazine preeeety challenging. I’ll keep you posted on how it all turns out.) 

I got Kellan primed for our adventure by telling him these were special cows — magic cows — that were black and white with a stripe down their middle. I half expected a little bit of resistance to the cow hunt, because of his first introduction to a “real life” cow, pictured here: 

Poor kid. I remember the terror I felt at seeing this exact same petrified monstrosity of an animal at a local museum at the age of 10. Twenty-some years later, I went and forced my two-year old to sit two feet from the same creepy creature and smile. Even worse, I made my poor mother try to hold him still for the picture.

So suffice to say, I was not sure the cow “adventure” would go over very well.

Turns out, Kellan was fine with it. I was the one who ended up grumpy by the end of our journey. I could not find those dang “Oreo” cows anywhere. In a rare moment of toddler compassion, Kellan said to me: “I’m saw-wee you dint fine doze cows, Mommy.” 

At that point, it was time to call it a day. 

Since we were in my mom’s neck of the woods, we dropped in to say hello before heading home. Kellan spent most of the time hunting down “Gwama’s” two new kittens and drumming on the cats’ scratching posts. When it was time to hug her goodbye, he gave her a squeeze, tousled her hair, and said…

“You’re a cow.”

I could have died. Died of embarrassment and melted into the floor.

But I reminded myself that he’s just two, and two-year olds certainly don’t know much about the social taboos of some words and phrases. So I brushed it off, and out we went to get loaded into the car. As I strapped Kellan into his carseat, he looked over at my mom and said…

“I wanna see your nipples.”

Oh…my…GAH. 

I said, “What did you say, Kellan?”

“I wanna see your nipples, Gwama.”

WHAT THE?!?!? 

I can only think this was related to the “you’re a cow” comment. If Grandma is a cow, perhaps nipples — to his two-year-old mind — equate with udders???

I don’t know. But I think both of us need to forget about cows for a while and focus on something else. Maybe goats.