Scott and I head to a lovely wedding.
As the rain clouds cease in time for the outdoor ceremony by an idyllic farm house, I sigh and reach for my husband’s hand.
Scott looks over my shoulder and says: That goat is you.
Me: Hmm, yes honey. Wait, what?
I follow his gaze…
Me: What do you mean oh husband of mine at this romantic wedding?
Scott: Look at those other goats relaxing in the pen with all the lovely food and shelter already provided and minding their own goat business. Then there’s goat-you sticking her face outside of the pen to get the grass on the other side because it MUST BE BETTER and probably planning her escape to meet up with the horses and go cow-tipping.
Me: I’m a dissatisfied goat?
Scott: I think I should stop talking now.
Welcome to marriage, my newlywed friends.