When Farmer Rebecca asks if any adults on the field trip want to milk a goat, my hand instantly shoots up.
“You want to give it a try?” she asks.
“Yes!” I nod. If we weren’t chaperoning kindergartners, I might have answered, “Hell, yes!” I mean, really, who doesn’t want to milk a goat?
That’s when I notice that apparently no one does. No other parents have raised their hands. It’s no happy accident that this doesn’t phase me. Did I mention I get to milk a goat?
Angus gives me a proud smile as I walk up and take a seat on the low, wooden bench at the front of the barn.
“Clamp off the teat,” Farmer Rebecca instructs. “And roll your fingers down.”
I do exactly as she says and warm milk squirts out. It makes a satisfying sound when it hits the side of the tin pail. I’m grinning like a farming fool.
“Any one else?” Farmer Rebecca calls.
“I think I’ll try, too,” a mom says and takes my place next to the mama goat.
Sometimes playing the fool opens the door for others to join the party. Never take yourself so seriously that you forget to have fun.