I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area and even though we lived within city limits, it didn't stop my parents from getting their country on in our roomy back yard. Basically my parents were doing the urban homesteading gig long before it was cool. I'm a by product of the 70's and I lived it in every way. Not only did we grow our own vegetables, we had fresh eggs, citrus trees, grapes and goat's milk. I was weaned on wheat germ and kale and wearing hand stitched leather vests was just the norm.
I was in Kindergarten when we had a pair of goats named Reuben and Rachel. In time, Rachel gave birth to twins who were promptly named Faith and Hope. Are you sensing a Biblical theme here?
Anyway my Kindergarten teacher announced we would be having show and tell at school. I knew immediately what I wanted to bring, the twin baby goats. My mom, the ever cool hippie, was totally on board and plans were made to take them to school.
My mom had an old turquoise Chevy truck to complete her image of beaded halter tops, cut off jean shorts, hurache sandals and a wedding ring fashioned out of old silver spoons. Even in my young state I knew my mom was a sight to behold as she drove up in her truck at school, complete with The Doobie Brothers blaring on the 8 track. She was one hot mama.
I remember how excited I was when she led the babies down the school walkway and the excitement I felt at sharing our critters.
Some of the parents had shown up to volunteer and as I started looking at them I started to wonder what was wrong with them.
The moms looked so much different than my mom. They were wearing conservative blouses, sensible shoes and polyester pants. Their hair was set and styled. They had a warm mushy mom appeal. I wondered if they were moms who had TV and made real brownies instead of the carob oat ones I had at home.
I started comparing and when I saw the majority of moms were opposite of MY mom, I became embarrassed. I decided I wanted my mom to be like the OTHER moms. Surely something was wrong with us because clearly, we were the minority.
I decided right then my mom needed to conform to the image of the polyester pant wearing moms.
The goats were a huge success, made complete with potty on the school room floor and stray bits of straw left behind, which helped ease my discomfort.
Meanwhile word came back that the kids loved my mom and thought she was awesome because she was so friendly and outgoing.
I'm kinda proud of my 6 year old mind because I remember thinking, "Yeah, you are right! My mom is really great!"
Who needs polyester pants anyway? Not my mom, that's for sure.
She has been a hero to me ever since because really, what kind of mom hauls goats to your school for Kindergarten show and tell? Yup. Only an awesome one.