Blame It All On the Boots

It took almost a week, but we finally overcame our jet lag!  I have decided it's my personal mission to eat my way across the Lonestar State and to turn Price into a bonafide Texan.  I am succeeding in both areas...

A little boy in the back of a truck, could it possibly be better?

Well, maybe if you put him in a field of cows,

Maybe it wasn't a huge herd, and possibly only 6 head, and they weren't all cows, there were some bulls.  But, my little boot wearing one (oh yes, boots were bought for the occasion) realized he could  "mooooooo" with the best of them and spent a lovely few hours moooing and tossing cow treats into the pasture to feed the cows.  And he was quite content with that until he spotted the tractor.  And any thought that ever crossed my mind that he isn't 100% pure boy was quickly vanished as a chorus of, "tactor, tactor, red tactor, mommy tactor, tactor mommy" began to endlessly repeat itself ring across the wide open spaces.  And there was nothing left to do, but to let him drive the tractor.

So that is what I did, and that is how I ended up with the happiest, hungriest, dirtiest little Texan in the making.