Mom and me feel real bad. For the last two months, we have been giving Ivy a hard time cuz she won’t keep her door closed.
Mom hired a couple of people to fix the door, and they assured Mom it was fixed, yet she still had to duct tape and tie the door closed as we bounced on down the road. While camped at Gunter Hills, the door, again, started popping open in the middle of the night.
Mom said enough was enough and crawled under The Ivy to see what’s-what. To her horror, she saw that one of the two main support braces had rusted. The fracture was two-fold and only being held together with a prayer.
Poor Ivy was broken; the only way she could alert Mom was to keep swinging her door open. Ivy was desperately trying to prevent a calamity on the road.
Mom has the doctor welder scheduled to make a home visit before taking off for Mississippi.
Both Mom & me made make-up for our poor behavior promises to Ivy. Mom promised to keep The Ivy clean and spit-polished. Yuck, “Mom, are you really gonna spit on her?”
I promised I would never pee on her tires again, and I’d be more respectful when people wanted to admire her instead of me.
Speaking of respect, My Mama did a wondrous thing.
It was a warm afternoon. I was hot while running back to camp with Fred when I spied a trench of mud. I lobed myself into the rut. Then waited to hear Mom start yelling at me to get out. Glory-be I heard not a breath of sound. I took a quick look to see Mom smiling while she got her camera out. That was all the incentive I needed to dive right in.
I’m lying in the thick mud, and Mom is only watching, so I take it to the next level and start rolling in the thick slime.
Still, Mom is quiet, so I decided to totally go for it and stuck me head right into the mud bath. Well, that might not have been one of my better decisions as I had to sneeze multiple times to get the dirt outa my nose.
Now I am covered with thick, muddy muck, and Mom smiles. I’m baffled. Did My Mama sneak a few sips of Port behind my back? Did she hit her head when I wasn’t looking? Is she having a breakdown of sorts?
None of the above. My Mom is Wiley is all.
We get back to camp, and per my routine, I immediately jump into the lake for a cool-off swim. I didn’t get all the mud off, but enough for Mom to pet me. My Mama, she sure is smart.
I found this joke y’all might enjoy.