We were driving to the Cracker Barrel for dinner on Sunday with the windows down. The weather was so perfect that we could not resist the feel of the wind whipping through our hair. We drove across the Mill River and the pungent odor of manure wafted through the open windows. Adam and I looked at each other in disgust.
From the back seat we heard a small voice. Kenly said, "Daddy, it smells like goats."
We're still laughing.