Who comes up with this stuff?

I recently started thinking about how certain things in everyday life have occurred.  It got me all in a tizzy.  Now I’m on a rampage to think up something new on my own, but some of these things are just too weird even for me.

For instance, I passed a herd of cows the other day.  It made me laugh because I remembered a time I was driving down the road in Texas with my two girls.  At the time, they were three and five years old, sitting in the back seat of the car.  I saw the herd and told the girls they must be having a party since they’re all gathered together to feast on a trough of grain.  That’s when my little one, asked the following question:

“Mommy, where does chocolate milk come from?”

Before I could open my mouth to answer, the older child chimed in.  She was always the expert of course, on absolutely anything.

“You see,” she said, “cows have four jina’s…”

With that, I swerved the car, peed my pants, had the water I sipped coming out of my nose, and could barely hold it together.

So the other day, after I passed the cows and laughed remembering the story from days long ago, I got to thinking about those cows.  My older daughter was partially right anyway.  Milk does come from cows.  But did you ever ask how we found this out?  What kind of person pulls up a stool, leans under a cow, and starts pulling on its private parts?  It must have been some kind of pervert.  I have female dogs, but if I had a male dog, would I just decide one day that I was going to pull on its you-know-what?  I’m just not that kind of girl.

Then again, look how successful the dairy business is.  I do enjoy a good portion of milk with a big ‘ol bowl of cereal.  Thanks pervert.

Now cows were not the only thing I started questioning.  I guess it’s just been one of those weeks for me.  When I went to the movies the other day, I had to stop in the ladies’ room before the movie started.  If you’ve had babies, or you’re a female over the age of forty, you know what I mean.  As for the rest of you, just play along.

After I did my business, I did the customary, and sanitary thing to do.  I went to wash my hands.  I approached the sink.  I don’t play golf, but I think approaching a public sink may be something like addressing the ball.  It takes practice to get it just right.  Apparently, I need more practice because when I approached, I saw no knobs of any kind to turn on the water.  I waved my hands for a motion sensor.  No luck.  I waved them in a different direction.  Still, no luck.  Perhaps this one doesn’t work, I thought.  I tried the one next to it, then the one next to that to no avail.  Another woman approached the sink.  She too tried the same system.  First a look for a knob, then a wave.  I told her I thought they were all broken.  Finally, and in desperation, I tried once more, this time, putting my hands directly under the faucet and back against the sink.  Somehow, water came out, and I felt like I had truly accomplished something.  Thus I, now the expert, paid it forward and taught the other woman how to turn on the water.  I then went to dry my hands.  Let’s just say I walked into the theater wiping them on my jeans.

A few days later, I found myself in yet another public ladies room.  The sink was in the center of the bathroom.  It was one large round tiled object with no visible faucet anywhere.  By the time I approached the sink this time, it was only to find at least a half a dozen other women all sticking their hands out in front of them waiting for water that never came.  One looked at the other in dismay.  Moments went by.  Eyeballs passed from one stranger to the other.  “I’ve got this,” I said.  I leaned under the large orifice and stepped on a metal bar underneath…voila!  Fountains of water came cascading out from the middle of the object to each lady. A sigh of relief went around the sink.  There I was, a hero if only just for a moment.

Who thinks this stuff up? I guess it takes a five-year old’s understanding of where chocolate milk comes from, and a non-golfers newfound knowledge of how to properly address the sink, to get by in life.

Let’s chat.  Do you ever wonder where stuff came from?  Tell me your stories.