Cow.

My brother told me at a grocery store in town that he wanted to go visit the next town over to get something.

I looked at two little girls in the grocery store, who switched between holding my hands and running away from me.

Oh no, I said to the girls. Do you know anyone in town who could watch you? Where in the world are you gonna go for an evening? With the dogs in the doghouse?

I was informed that I was silly.

Of course, I know of a place they can go. There's a pretty cool house in town that's big enough for visitors, and happens to be a block away from a playground.

That would be my house.

The girls came over (all three of them!) and I called in some reinforcements in the form of grandparents.

At the playground, we saw a cowboy strolling down the road on his horse. I showed the twins, and we waved at him.

The cowboy waved back at us.

The next day, I tried to get the twins to tell their parents what they saw on the playground.

Little red-haired girl, what did you see at the playground? Remember, we waved to him?

Little red-haired girl: A cowboy!

That's right! What was the cowboy riding? What animal was he on?

Litle red-haired girl: A cow.

At this point, I died of laughter. Close, child, but not quite. The cowboy was not riding a cow through the center of town.

Contrary to what the world thinks about Dodge City, Kansas, we don't normally have bull riding in the center of town on brick streets in broad daylight.

Try again, child. What was the cowboy riding?

Said child thought a minute, then said: Horse!

Ding, ding! We have a winner.

I think she's going to be a brain surgeon when she grows up.