A week or so ago, Josie was at our house.  I needed to top off the water for the goats, so I asked her to come with me.

We got on the golf cart and rode around to the back of the house to get a hose to take with us.  I unscrewed the hose from the faucet and brought it around to the driver’s side of the cart. Josie looked at the hose and then at me and said, “Are you going to drag that?”  I told her that I was and she said, “That’s impressive.”

We drove to the goat pasture where I hooked up the hose to another faucet, turned it on, and put the other end in the trough.  

We decided to drive the one mile trail around the property while the hose was doing its thing.  Our conversation was about goats, and we discussed several goat facts before I told her that her daddy drank goat milk when he was a baby. 

Then she replied, “Yes, he was a baby, then he grew up and got married….I always cry at weddings.”

I looked at her and asked, “How many weddings have you been to?”  She answered, “Well, I didn’t go to that one.”

When I shared our conversation with her mother,  Josie looked at her and said, “I really DO always cry at weddings.” 

To tell you the truth, I don’t think she’s ever been to one.