One of the benefits of being a Mom, is to be the recipient of stuff like this red cow, which is really a bull. (As my kids have corrected me no less than 12 times): The gift is not in the bull, although, I do love it; it’s in the latent, crazy, quirky reminiscent memories from my past, that would still be buried if I didn’t have the bull today. Memories that my 9-year-old’s soul is completely, blissfully, oblivious to. Yet, how did he know this cow would resonate with me? The red on this cow is stunning. A true red that stands in contrast to the organgey-brown-colored reds we…