A Bull named Cow

Oh yeah, you know those machines. They are strategically placed in the exits of Walmarts just to entice your children as you are trying to escape out the door. They rob your change pocket and disappoint your kids.

Or do they?


J and I were waiting on a table at a restaurant on our last night of vacation when one of these machines caught his eye.

"Want me to win an animal for you?" He asks me, all sugar coated.

"Yes please," I reply, looking underneath my eyelashes at him like a teenager at a festival with her new crush.

J puts in two quarters and asks me what stuffed prize I want.

"The cow," I say.

Can you believe he gets the damn stuffed cow it on the first try? Bystanders gasp, my mouth drops, he turns around looking at me almost like he's embarrassed at how easy it was.

"I've never seen that happen," says a woman standing beside me. I smile sheepishly and take the cow from him.
















The cow turned out to be great company.















Of course, I named her Cow. J says you can't name a male bull Cow and points out the animal's horns. And I did notice she doesn't have any utters either, but I still refer to Cow as a "her" while J refers to her as a "he".




















Anyways, she's a lively one. Drank us both under the table and could barely wait for J to get the second batch of margaritas out.