I used to love those good old days… when my Grandma Harriet would sit me on her knee… and tell me stories from their farming days. This was one of my favorites…..

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It was a gloomy Wednesday morning.
Ol’ Betsy’s day had was simply out of sorts from the get go. She got off on the wrong hoof. And no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get back on track.

The popular herd didn’t let Betsy play in their cow games. No.  All because she could only give skim milk.

So.

She decided enough was enough.  This would be her big day out….
and… she snuck out of the barnyard before the first milking.

First a stop at McDonald’s. Betsy thought it was an Irish Pub. She quickly learned the awful truth.
Next, a visit to Walmart.  She had never seen a Mart that sold Walls.  Instead…..it made her sleepy… with so many people wearing pajamas there.
And now.
Now…. it was getting dark and she was on the wrong side of town.

Oh to be back in the pasture, with the green grasses, and snobby clickish-Vitamin-D-Milk-cows.

Just then, Farmer Garth walked up with a purple cow leash, and led her back home… while feeding her sugar cubes along the way.

And then….everything felt just fine.

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You know…. I don’t think my Grandma was quite right…. but she made a great can of Chef Boyardee.

“Fiction reveals truth that reality obscures.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson