Tuesday, August 23, 2005

"A Barre Home Companion"

I took the kids out for cremees (Vermont for soft serve) last Friday over at Bragg Farm, which is about 12 minutes from our house. It takes 12 minutes to get anywhere around here it seems.

This particular place is great because they have the cutest country store with loads of Vermonty goodness. You can buy anything from a pint of fresh-picked blueberries to a gorgeous Amish rocking chair. They also have rabbits, baby goats, lambs and llamas that the kids can feed and pet. Needless to say they are some chubby little farm animals. And yes, folks, goats will eat anything, so beware.

We poked around the store for a bit and then got our cremees. We all got chocolate because the only other option was maple and we haven't decided if we like that or not yet. Before too long the kids looked like they'd been caught in an ice cream rainshower and we skipped off to feed the animals and play on the little swingset they have out front. Quite the bucolic scene, all in all, and there were some older folks I got talking with on our way back to the car. They were charmed by Sofia's red curls and David's jumping around like Sportacus and one of the gentlemen was teasing David about having ice cream all down his shirt. "That goes in your stomach, not down your front!" David just grinned, not saying anything. In fact he was unusually quiet. Everyone was kind of looking at him smiling, waiting for him to say something.

"Ummmmmm..." David began. The couples smiled at him, nodding their heads encouragingly.
"The other day..." Their eyes widen. I'm thinking this is quite a build up. I'm hoping he's about to say something very clever, proving me to be the best stay at home mom ever.
"...the other day..." Yes???? Everyone leans in.
"...my mommy fell off the couch." David smiles broadly.

Slowly, all heads turn toward me, expressions quizzical. This feels like the longest 5 seconds of my life. More like 12 minutes, to be precise. I feel the Irish flooding over my cheeks and try to think of something to say.

The first gentlemen smiles, then laughs out loud and says to David, "You should tell your mother to stop drinking the spoiled milk. HAH!!" Everyone has a good chuckle at my expense, including David, who thinks that's about the funniest thing anyone has ever said.

I began muttering about what had really happened, that I wasn't hitting the sauce and I lost my balance and all, but no one was listening. They all wandered off, giggling like a group of school kids.

And so ends another day in Barre, Vermont: Where the soft serve is called a cremee, the baby goats are fat and the mommies are all a bit tipsy.

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