May 19, 2010

Montana Mud Pie

We just got back from Baker, Montana. The first night we were there, we had some dinner, and then we decided to take the girls out for a little walk to see the cows and horses. Our girls love animals. In fact, each time we see an animal during our road trips we imitate their sounds. “Hey, look! A cow! Moooooo” is a pretty common thing to hear when we are road tripping.

But, you’re getting me away from the story at hand. As I was saying, we went for a little walk to see the animals on the farm. After about ten minutes of admiring the size and simplicity of the herd of cattle around us, we turned our attention to the horses. When we got to where the horses were I noticed a huge pile of Montana Mud Pie (Cow poop) next to us.

We stood for another ten minutes or so when from behind me I heard my wife screech “Maaaattttt!” I swung around and saw Aubrey heading straight for the pile of unholiness. I reached out for her, but it was too late. She had stepped into the pile with both feet and was now crying (My guess is partly because of the terror of hearing Heather yell and partly because she was creeped out with the feeling of poop on her toes).

What was hilarious was that Aubrey kept saying “Yucky Poopie, Yucky Poopie” about a thousand times in a monotone voice. As she would say it, she would contort her face to express extreme displeasure.

(To be honest, it was so cute, that a couple of times I would whisper to her “Yucky Poopie” just to say it again.)

So, in the end, we went out for a nostalgic walk and had to hurry back into the safety of the indoors after a mere twenty minutes. We’re tough, but not that tough.

More from our trip in the next post.

the petersons


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