Farm Life Fail: Matt Mathews’ Hilarious Chores Chaos
When people picture farm chores, they imagine something wholesome and picturesque—sunrise over rolling hills, a strong cup of coffee, and a farmer gracefully tending to animals like they’ve stepped out of a country music video. Well, let me assure you, that is not my reality. My mornings on Boggs Funny Farm look a lot less like “peaceful country life” and a lot more like a blooper reel nobody asked for.
Take this morning, for example. I woke up determined to be productive, coffee in hand, boots laced tight, ready to conquer the day. That lasted all of three minutes. As soon as I stepped outside, Henry the donkey greeted me with his usual bray—loud enough to wake the neighbors two counties over. I waved, said “Good morning,” and carried on. Henry, however, had already spotted the carrot in my pocket and began plotting.
My first stop was the chicken coop. Easy enough, right? Wrong. The second I opened the door, the chickens launched themselves at me like I was the opening act at a rock concert. Feed bucket in one hand, coffee mug in the other, I had no defense. Coffee spilled down my shirt, feed went flying, and one hen actually landed in the bucket like it was her personal Uber. By the time I got them corralled, I looked like I’d lost a food fight.
Still, I pressed on. The goats were next, and if you know anything about goats, you know they are chaos wrapped in fur. As I attempted to refill their water, one decided to climb on my back like I was a jungle gym. Another knocked over the entire feed bin, and before I could stop them, it turned into an all-you-can-eat buffet. I tried scooping up grain with my hands, only to be headbutted in the rear so hard I nearly fell face-first into the trough.
And then came the pigs. Oh, the pigs. Sweet when they want to be, but mischievous little bulldozers the rest of the time. While I lugged a fresh bale of hay into their pen, one pig decided to “help” by chewing the back of my pants. Another shoved me square into the mud. There I was—boots stuck, shirt already filthy from the chickens, pants now decorated with pig slobber—looking like the world’s saddest rodeo clown.
Meanwhile, Henry had been lurking in the background, waiting for the perfect moment. As I stumbled back toward the barn, covered in feathers, mud, and regret, he struck. Quick as lightning, his teeth grabbed the zipper of my jacket. One loud bray later, he yanked it halfway off and trotted away, carrot prize dangling from his lips like a trophy. The goats cheered, the pigs snorted, the chickens clucked, and I… well, I stood there wondering why I ever thought chores would go smoothly.
By the time I finally made it back inside, I was exhausted, filthy, and thoroughly humbled. My “productive morning” had turned into a comedy special starring every animal on the farm, with me playing the bumbling sidekick.
But here’s the thing about farm life fails: as messy, frustrating, and downright ridiculous as they are, they’re also the stories that make you laugh the hardest. And if Henry, the goats, and the rest of the gang have taught me anything, it’s this—on a farm, chaos isn’t the exception. It’s the chore list.
