Previous entry: August 18, 2007
OK, I’ve come to the conclusion that little boys are nasty. I now understand why the moms on television are always checking their little monsters’ pockets. And as each day goes by, the old adage that boys are different than girls is reinforced.
Today, Shane was rolling around on the floor with our dog. Reesey tolerates Shane tugging on his ears and pulling his fur every which way. He’s a really good dog for a pound puppy or for any puppy for that matter. He’s primarily an inside dog, but living on a ranch gives him plenty of space to roam. One of his favorite activities is rolling in manure, but I digress.
Back to Shane…after rolling around on the floor with Reesey, he jumps up on the couch to sit next to me. I think, “Oh, how sweet. My mama’s boy sure does love me.” I notice, though, that he has something in his hand. It’s obviously a very special treasure judging by the extra-tight grip. Being the child of a magician, I automatically think it’s a coin he’s found and hold my hand out for him to give it to me. “NO! NO!” After serious coaxing, I convinced him to at least show me what he’d found. Well, let me tell you, it wasn’t a coin. It had legs! About eight of them, in fact. It was the fattest, juiciest, grayest tick I’ve ever seen (that’s saying a lot since I grew up in the backwoods of Louisiana)! It was so fat, in fact, that it had almost outgrown its legs and probably couldn’t even crawl if it tried. Convincing Shane to give it to me was no easy task. It took bribery…with raisins. He was perfectly content with the trade when I pointed out that the raisins resembled his tick.
This story brings to mind an old joke I heard as a child. I’m horrible at telling jokes, but here goes:
Mama’s in the house. Her boys are playing outside under the house of all places. Mama yells to the boys, “Hey! What ya’ll doin’ down under dere?” They say, “Eatin’ raisins.” Knowin’ good and well that she didn’t give them no raisins, her curiosity is peaked. “Where ya’ll get dem raisins?,” she yells. Little voices from under the house…”Off this here dawg!”
Two valuable lessons were learned that day. One, to check Reesey for ticks when he comes inside from rolling in the manure. More importantly, I learned to make sure it’s raisins that Shane finds on the floor to eat.
As Charles Dickens wrote, “A boy’s story is the best that is ever told.” I’m happy to have a boy who, without a doubt, will provide much material for a good story.