Silas has just grown into some cowboy boots that a friend handed down to us. They were her son’s, but he has outgrown them. Her parents live out West, and these are the Real Deal cowboy boots. Silas is delighted. He also has a vest (I think passed down from the same friend?), and has decided that one of JC’s old hats is a cowboy hat.
He’s been clomping around, demanding that we carry his GIANT horse up and down the stairs, depending where he wants the “range” to be at any given moment, and swinging bits of yarn around his head, calling them “spinning ropes” (lassos).
Last night, he told me about nineteen stories about a cowboy named Ronald, and his horse, and his mommy. The horse, who is perhaps also named Ronald (?) likes to run in the snow. Sometimes, they get lonely when they are out riding the range.
Yesterday, he was singing “Home on the Range,” which was pretty darn cute.
And finally, he said, “Mama, if the cowboy rides a horse, why isn’t he a horse boy?” Good question!
Lastly, our little cowgirl likes to get in on the action too (warning: This is so cute, it might break your brains):