Our neighbor, Kathy, called to tell us to come over for prom pictures.
We had no idea what she was talking about. I told Melissa I was too happy reading Little Bee in the sun. “But,” I said, “Kathy is so nice to us. One of us has to go. We have to be good neighbors.”
Melissa said, “Then you go.”
“Let’s do rock scissors paper.”
“No. You want to be a good neighbor, you go. And the lambs are so happy sitting in my lap. I don’t want to move them.”
“Take the lambs with you. They’ll like that.”
“In the car?”
“Yeah. Like dogs.”
Melissa goes. It seems like maybe this would be okay because when my sons walk over to Kathy’s house, the goats follow my sons, and Kathy invites the boys in for chocolate milk and anything else they find in her fridge, and the goats wait outside, like watch dogs who have a big appetite for grass.
We thought the lambs would do that. Maybe. Or wait in the car. I don’t know what we thought. But Melissa was back in five minutes.
“You have to come. You’re not going to believe it. The whole school is there. At Kathy’s.”
“Did you see Zach and Mitch?”
“Yeah. But you have to come.”
We pull up to the house, with the lambs in the car, and there is the senior class, in prom outfits, lining up for photos. We get out of the car and start searching for Zach and Mitch. The lambs follow us.
Mitch and Zach look so cute in their tuxes that match their dates’ dresses. We want to talk with them but the lambs start making noises because they are not close enough to Melissa, and they won’t shut up, and we really just need to get the lambs back into the car.
Days later, when we ask Mitch how was prom, he says, “People thought you guys were nuts wearing those hats.”
“What about the lambs?”
“The hats were more crazy.” Read more