Hot and Hotter
This
summer has been a scorcher. And,
apparently, that is not enough torture to satisfy my Mom. She thinks it’s cute to haul my ass erhh…butt
to every club function known within a 50 mile radius. What is up with getting up at the crack of
dawn, getting a cold bath, rushing to get loaded up just to be tied to the
trailer for hours on end? Does she not
understand how hot it is? If only these
new places she takes me to were air conditioned. But, no….one show did not even have cover. Can you believe that? And, then there are all these new things
going on around. It takes me a while to
figure out that the new sounds aren’t coming any closer and then some dingbat
jumps out around the corner at me. Will
I ever get used to that? I’m thinking
not.
Why
can’t my Mom just be satisfied to let me lounge around and be a teenager? I can think of a ton of things I’d rather do;
continue practicing my knot untying skills for my Donkey Scout badge, maybe see
if I can unlatch the gate and check out the property, or better yet, maybe I
could learn to open the door to the feed room.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll work on next.
‘Til Next Time,
Lightfoot
