I know the last thing you need is a kid, but I couldn’t help myself. This is our neighbors’ baby goat, about a week old. He looks like a cross between a goat and a domino. There were a dozen or so little goats and their mamas in this enclosure near the barn. They can go inside and out as suits them. This little fellow decided to sun himself on a bed of straw.
The little goats are more comfortable with people than lambs are. This guy came up to me and sniffed my pant legs, looking to see if I had gotten into anything interesting. I had, since I had been out with the dogs that morning. The little goat found the dog smell intriguing. Or maybe it was the me smell. I’ll never know. In any event he found my pant legs fascinating.
With my neighbor’s encouragement I picked him up and he settled comfortably into my arms. His fur was clean and soft. When I rubbed his head I could feel hard bumps on the top that will grow into horns someday.
Baby creatures are ridiculously endearing. They are tiny, yet almost always perfectly formed. Something about them just makes the heart go squish.
Suppose this guy wanted some of your lunch. Could you refuse him? I think not. This little goat doesn’t do anything productive, yet he is adorable, worthy of care and concern and maybe even your lunch.
You, though, somehow got the idea that you had to be productive in order to be lovable. First you need to take care of this thing, then another. Only when everything is all checked off your list can you take out the fantasy novel you have been saving for just the moment when you were worthy of reading it. How can a baby goat be worthy of love just by being there, but you have to complete your list of self-assigned chores in order to qualify?
You are lovable even with all your chores undone. The only one who believes otherwise is you, and you can just quit that. Yes, there are things to be done, but if you feel like curling up in a patch of sun today, just do it.