The Cow Next Door

A few days ago Will and I were headed out to the car when he noticed some flowers had popped up in our front yard. They've been studying gardening, plants, and pollination for a few weeks and he is extremely interested in all plants at the moment.

While buckling him in his car seat we discussed cross-pollination and the need for butterflies; something he'd just learned.

As we pulled out of the drive and drove in front of the house he said:


"Hey, the flowers go in the neighbors yard too.
Maybe the cow planted them."

Since we had just been discussing cross-pollination I thought maybe he'd seen a cow in a trailer or something and thought it had been responsible for the flowers. So I asked him what cow.

"The one that lives next door."

We don't have anyone near us with cows, and I tell him so.

"The girl that lives next to us. Papa and I call her a cow."

[[Important side note: Steve and a neighbor have an ongoing hate/hate relationship. It's complicated - involving dogs, barking, a messy yard, and two strong personalities.]]

I immediately let Will know that our neighbor is not a cow and that is a bad thing to call a person. He's confused.

"But she's a girl cow like a cowboy."

I can see where in his mind that might be what he thought Steve meant when he called her a cow. I just explained that calling someone a cow was like calling them fat or ugly.

The next day I heard him tell his Papa, "Mama and I don't call people cows, it's mean."

Steve took it to heart and has made an attempt to no longer call her cow. Thought to be honest, I'm not sure her new nickname is any better: The neighbor formally known as cow.