Four facts

Four 'facts about me' to fulfill Number-Three son's request:

Share:

6009_1200487256317_3484770_nFour ‘facts about me’ to fulfill Number-Three son’s request:

1) When I was in early elementary school, we lived out in the countryside in Tennessee. I found a dog skull on the edge of our neighbors property. I heard they’d killed one of their dogs who had been getting into the chicken pen. I kept that skull for years and years.

2) Also, in Tennessee, I used to spend hours down at the creek, trying to catch crawdads, minnows and tadpoles. Once, I led a group of friends along the banks of the creek, follow-the-leader style when I ran into a copperhead sunning itself on the sand. I freaked out, turned and ran back the way we’d come with everyone following me. I would swear now that I jumped over at least five more snakes on the way out. I’m surprised no one got bitten.

3) On this one dirt road in Tennessee, there was a house that had a dog who like to chase cars. He was fast and was very successful at keeping those nasty cars away from his house. He decided to chase our car as we drove by and was really booking when he hit the mailbox. He knocked the mailbox so hard that it took it right out of the ground. He and the mailbox tumbled down the small bank into the front yard. We couldn’t stop laughing as we drove on down the road. Don’t worry, the dog lived.

4) When I was much younger, living (again) in Tennessee, someone told me an old wives tale that horse hairs would move or turn into a worm or somesuch if left in water. I didn’t find out till a few years later, that I only knew half of the story. What you’re supposed to do is tell a younger, unsuspecting and naive child that when a hair is placed in a puddle of water, it will wiggle. Then you demonstrate, pouring a small bit of water onto a table and placing a hair in it. You say “There! It just moved!” They’ll say something like, “What? I didn’t see it.” And you’ll say, “Just get closer to it. There it is again!” Then, when they put their face down really close to the hair, you swat your hand down on the puddle of water, drenching the poor kid and making the world less innocent by the count of one child. Just a sad, sad way to amuse yourself.