the dime-store cowboy dance.

Sometimes we like to hit all of those western wear shops. You know, smell the leather, look at the lassos-- try on all of the:

We always pick out our favorite pair of boots, or what we would wear if we were really cowboys. I always gravitate toward the fringe. "A cowgirl has gotta have fringe!" I say.
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The workers in the store give us questionable looks as we wander around. They've seen our type before. "Those dang city slickers!" They say.
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Then we talk about what we would have on our ranch. Horses and cows are a must. The boys throw in ideas like bunnies and cats. "Nobody likes herding cats!" I say.
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We try out the chaps, the lassos, and the spurs. Wouldn't it be fun to ride the range?
But, I don't think we will every really be cowboys. The best we could be is a dime-store cowboy. I would never want to risk getting cow poop on my fringy pink cowgirl boots. It sure is fun to pretend though.