Bets with ScubaSteve

It’s like making a deal with the devil. Except instead of horns he wears a UK ball cap.

As you all know, my father in law ScubaSteve and I have a relationship that most people would find odd between a DIL and FIL. We love to hate each other and the more irritating we can be to one another the better. He has truly met his match with me when it comes to hard headed and stubborn, and that is why we “get along?” so well. ¬†While I know he absolutely worships the ground I walk on (if he actually read these blog posts he would have choked on that last statement), he doesn’t ever outwardly show his affection for me. Like, ever. In fact it makes him extremely uncomfortable when I tell him that I love him (hence why I say it all the time) and it has become my life mission in the two years to try to trick him into saying it back to me. So far all of my efforts have failed… until now.

Scuba gives me crap all the time about Delilah (the most beautiful and wonderful cow in all the world). When I saw what I thought was her mucus plug going over a month and a half ago I was sure that we would have a baby within 3 weeks… but alas there is still no baby around. He was giving me a hard time a couple weeks ago that I didn’t know what I was talking about, she wasn’t anywhere close to calving, and “I bet you that she doesn’t have that calf for another month.”

Oh son, them are fighting words in the world of Scuba and Laney.

I stuck my arm strait out and said, “You really want to bet me?”

While we shook on it I laid out my terms of the bet: If Delilah calves on or before April 11, Scuba must tell me he loves me while shaking my hand AND looking me in the eye, followed by a hug. BOOM!

What does Scuba want if he wins the bet? Nothing. Why? Because the simple fact of knowing that he is right and can continue to harass me with his “right-ness” for the rest of eternity is enough for him. [Y’all I CAN NOT lose this bet]

So now we wait. Scuba and I have both been checking Delilah’s utter on a daily basis both wishing for what we want to see. I tried to get him with an April Fool’s that she calved and it only worked for about .2 seconds before he caught on. He’s a sharp old tack.

I’m starting to get a little nervous as she’s just now started to bag up, but I’m still hopeful. She’s got a week to make this happen for me.

Side note: Can you give cows Pitocin to induce labor? Asking for a friend…

Wishing for luck and a heifer calf,





Date Night With ScubaSteve

Every once in a while ScubaSteve and I find ourselves alone on the homestead. During these times he usually invites me to dinner with him. Most ladies would die at the thought of having to sit through an awkward dinner alone with their father-in-law, but luckily Scuba and I have 2 favorite conversation topics that are foolproof and entertaining: cows and making fun of MyFarmer.

Our evening usually begins with me pulling up to his house and him asking me if we are going to have breakfast or dinner. I remind him if I didn’t have to mow every bleeping yard on this side of county I wouldn’t be getting there so late. He chuckles.

The conversation generally starts with Delilah, as do most of my conversations. We talk about how beautiful and amazing she is, how great of a momma she is, how she is the best cow in the world, etc. Okay, actually I say all of this while Scuba rolls his eyes and orders a bourbon. I mean look at her, do you blame me?


Nope, didn’t think so.

Then it generally moves to an embarrassing story about MyFarmer and cows. One of my personal favorites is from when he was a little tyke. Apparently his steer decided to take a fairly long siesta and refuse to get up… at a show… in the middle of the arena. Like, long enough that the show had to be put on hold. I get tickled every time Scuba tells that story.

At some point in the evening we talk about Limousin and Simmental cattle. Scuba loves him a good Limousin and Simmental. I love me a good Corriente. We agree to disagree.

One thing we refuse to agree to disagree about is The Great Laney and Scuba Milking Shorthorn Debate of 2014. It all started when I made reference to seeing Shorthorns at a dairy cow show. Scuba swears they are a beef breed, I continue to refer back to the fact that the breed I saw was MILKING Shorthorns. We called in a few cattle experts and a veterinarian and all agreed with me – they are in fact a dairy breed. BOOYA! It’s still a sore subject. We usually divert from that conversation quickly, before we start yelling at each other in the Mexican Restaurant.

Then we go back to an embarrassing MyFarmer and cow story. Like the time Delilah got out of the pasture and she ended up chasing him across the field in the gator. I should add that Drew was in the gator, not Delilah. I need to do a better job telling stories. Although imagining Delilah chasing MyFarmer in the gator while he runs and screams for his life is hilarious.

We then will move on to what kind of bull we should breed Delilah to. ScubaSteve says double-muscled bull of some sort, and I remind him that I will continue to breed her to whatever bull Mr. Rod has at his house because our cow summer camp arrangement is pretty much fabulous. He nods his head in agreement.

At some point during all of this we will, without fail, meet almost every single person Scuba knows in our small town. As luck would have it, I’m almost always looking very supermodel-esk with my clothes covered in lawn clippings and cow slobber and shoes that smell like horse urine, so people are always thrilled to meet me. I swear one of these days I’m going to introduce myself as Scuba’s girlfriend. Let’s give small town USA something to talk about!

Our evening always ends with me thanking him for dinner and telling him that I love him. Scuba mumbles something like, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go away. See you tomorrow.”

Our relationship is beautiful.

-Scuba&Laney 4-eva