[As I was madly searching for this post, I realized I never published it. Can't figure out why, what with it being SO RIVETING and all. Sorry. Try not to fall asleep before you get to the part where NATHAN JR IS A WEE TINY BABY. Bay. Bee. Kills me, dead.]
Hey, remember Lumpyhead's Cow? More importantly, do you remember my attempts to procure a spare Cow, which is how we ended up with Floppy Cow?
Cow still accompanies Lumpyhead to bed. Cow II (who is actually Cow IV, because real Cow II never showed up and Cow III turned out to be Floppy Cow - but whatever - the Emergency Replacement Cow) is also still hanging around, although her music box died almost immediately and she was quickly spurned for the poser she is. She sits in a corner of Lumpyhead's bed, looking brand new. Cow (aka "Number One Cow," as Lumpyhead calls her - although Lumpyhead and his father refer to the animal in the masculine - which drives me fricken nuts - it's a COW, not a BULL, it's a GIRL) has lost her beloved bell and her music box still makes noise but doesn't really operate as the manufacturer intended. Number One Cow comes out to the living room with Lumpyhead and spends her day there, until it's time to go back to bed.
Here's Number One Cow with imitation Floppy Cow - who was recently [not that recently, actually] perched atop Nathan Jr's head.
I set them up like this when Lumpyhead announced he wanted to take a picture, too.
Nathan Jr is just glad the damn thing isn't on his head anymore.
Lumpyhead's picture is pretty good:
Right before Lumpyhead took his photo, he chirped "Say cheese, Guys!" at the cows, which is apparently what someone else always barks at him and his sister.
Bump thought he should have said "Make cheese, Guys."
Bump did not make fun of me for our child parroting my words. Even though I always laugh at him when Lula demands "Did you hear what I just said, Lumpyhead?" as she's ordering her brother around.