So I went to visit my mom for 24 hours as a Mother's Day gift at my parents beloved farm/ranch this weekend. As I pulled up to the gold-toothed gate on FM 2710, Lindale, TX, (Dad is a dentist, so you know why the heck we have this) my parents cars were in the driveway yet neither them nor my brother were anywhere to be found. I peered across the pasture, as I could hear a motor coming from somewhere. There, I spot my 15-year-old brother riding a tracture, cutting grass. This is strange, as I have yet to see him do this. I learn later he is making his very own fairway, so he can hit golf balls.

One down, two to go.

Something whizzes past my field of vision down the driveway out of nowhere. There my parents appear, trucking down the front of the property on the polaris, for me to only lose sight of them once more. I wait a few seconds, they finally stop in front of the house, and tell me to jump in.

"We can't find the longhorns," said Dad. "We can't find them anywhere; I think they may have gotten out."

This wouldn't be the first time. So we take off, and make the rounds through the 80-something acres of land once more. Note to self: Rub off your lipgloss when riding on the polaris. I always forget to do this.

As soon as we start going, bugs fly right in and stick to my loreal infallible-glazed kisser. I commence to pick them out.

Bernie, Wal-Mart dog number two is trailing behind us along the way. We peruse through the trees, by the ponds, every view in site, and Bernie begins to lead us into the woods.

Finally, we locate Dr. K, Vernon Ray, and the two new female editions, Clara and Aunt B. Both are expecting. Whew. Thank God.

Apparently, Bernie the nuisance ran them off into the brush.

My previously clean self has been home 15 minutes, and I already have a giant glob of slobber on my leg, grass and dirt all in between my flip-flopped toes, and nats trapped in my eyelashes and lips. Welcome to farm life.

We drive back up to the house, dad takes a cow treat, places in his own mouth and feeds it directly into Dr. K's mouth.

"Wanna go to eat?" asks Dad.

"Where?" I ask, praying he rinses before trying to kiss me anytime soon.

"Well there aren't too many options."

Chili's or Cracker Barrel. That's about it.

"Chili's it is."

Later, my dad walks into the house carrying a big air conditioner.

"I got my bullies this for their apartment," said Dad.

My mom shakes her head, displeased.

I follow him out to the bulldog area on the side of the house and watch him install their new cooling system. Since my last farm visit, dad has pasted pictures, calendars and posters of bulldogs all over the inside of the dogs walk-in closet sized home. He informs me he's looking into getting Animal Planet in there.