I am NOT a goat farmer

Over the weekend, my family got two goats. According to my dad, that means we are now goat farmers.

On Saturday, my sisters, my mom and I went to visit mine and Joseph's brand new niece (she is perfect). My dad stayed home to work on the electric fence where we keep the goats, so I should have seen this coming. Joseph and I went to an antique store and mama and the girls headed on home. On my way home, I received a quite urgent phone call that I needed to pick up two goat collars and some goat feed... apparently something had been going on at home. While I was out, this is what I missed (as told according to my mom):

My dad went with my two youngest sisters to pick up the goats that we had been preparing for. Apparently, we weren't quite ready for the goats, but you know, we got them anyways. So Christina held a goat and Jessica held a goat (they brought them home in the van). When they got back to the house, daddy put the goats in the electric fence, and they ran right out. Who cares if you get electrocuted?! It's freedom! So there goes my dad, running after the goats, sweat dripping off of his nose. Rebekah runs after the goats, not really intending to catch one. Christina runs after the goats, probably intending to catch one, but not quite sure how. Jessica... runs and screams when she gets near a goat... but she wasn't scared ;) Mama stood on the porch.

When Joseph and I got to the house with the collars, my dad had tied the goats to a tree with a rope. Literally as soon as I got out of the truck one of the goats jumped straight up in the air and passed out. Why? Who knows? It's a dumb goat. We (okay, not me) finally got the goats settled in and went in for the night. We sat around the table with Grandmama and Grandad and talked about their goat stories, we discussed goat names. We acted like goat farmers. All the goat farmers got their showers and all that good stuff, until my dad went to check on the animals only to find they had escaped once again. Jessica ran into the house, "the goats got out!" she said. We all kept talking, then it hit us. We sat in silence. Joseph laughed. Then we all got up like we were going to do something about it. Okay, they did do something about it. Mama and I sat on the porch. It was ridiculous.

When I got in the van to go to church on Sunday I got goat hair all over me. I am not a goat farmer.

Daddy said on Monday that he posted on facebook that I was a goat farmer. I am not a goat farmer.

Here I am, blogging about goats. Maybe I am a goat farmer.