Goat Slobber

My child has no fear. She climbs up anything and everything she can. Beds, chairs, sofas, display cases, jungle gyms, stairs. If she can pull herself up, she is up. She feels the same way about going down. Face first down a slide is her position of choice. This afternoon she jumped off of my bed, bounced on her mattress and face-planted on some pillows. They were placed there so that, in the event she fell off, there would be something to cushion her fall. They were not placed there to encourage her dare-devil tendencies. Oh well. She face-planted and immediately started giggling. "Mo peaz."

The same no-fear attitude applies to animals. We went to a pumpkin farm with our friends Danielle and Ava a couple of weeks ago. And on the farm they had a goat. A goat which you could feed. Natalia was obsessed.



She was in love. It didn't matter that the goats were bigger than her or that they have CRAZY looking eyes. It didn't matter that their lips curled around her fingers or that their teeth nibbled her fingertips. She couldn't get enough. She would feed them and then smack her lips together like she does when something is delicious.



She would have happily stayed for hours, but we had pumpkins to pick.