My close relative and I took the evening off and had a trip to the big town. We shopped for a hot tub, a thing to set on the porch with hot water in it, and then you are supposed to sit there in your bathing suit and enjoy the whole deal.
We read the papers and talked to the salespeople for a couple of hours and shifted from one leg to the other. I tried, sincerely tried, to look very interested and even asked questions.
We got to eat in a catfish cafe -- she says it was not a cafe; it is a restaurant. The fish was good and I sure enjoyed having all I wanted, too. I love fried fish but am not crazy about threading a worm on the hook and staring at a bobber for hours. This is the result of growing up without much water or time for fishing.
The trip was uneventful as far as I was concerned, and we got home in time for the evening news at ten. Would you believe my close relative marched into the living room, turned the volume to zero, and proceeded to repeat the sales pitch of the hot tub salespeople almost word for word? She did and she was really wound tight!
The grands all wanted us to get one and soon! I don't want a bathtub on the porch, a place for folks to look at me in a little tiny bathing suit, or the trouble to get the thing plumbed! What on earth caused two folks who usually are on the same trail to go so far south?
What was I to do? I listened, begged for the weather report and was allowed to see and hear part of the forecast and then just left her talking as I strolled off to bed! I am just barely smart enough to walk and chew gum at the same time, but I knew not to speak or nod or even sniff as she was totally serious and can sign checks!
Up and out to the barn before early was the plan, rode Jack for about three hours and felt so very brave, and hungry, after checking the three bunches and feeding the bulls. The offspring had arrived and been in to check on their mother and said she was busy, so I was sure I could escape to the coffee emporium for pie and coffee without a problem.
I asked the youngest to go tell his mother I was going for mineral and would be in for lunch. He grinned that silly grin that I remembered from his youth, and I thought about it for a second. I should have thought hard and long because he had an inkling of the danger I would encounter when I returned.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, your manners are to be minded for all your life! Always be kind and considerate, take extra devoted care of your family and always try to provide all they might ever need. Spend extra-long, hot, difficult hours working days without end just to be blessed with a smile and a sweet little thanks for your efforts. These are not things to be forgotten but, brothers, also learn to stand your ground, sit tall in the saddle and take your beating like a man.
I will probably be OK in about a week, and we will continue to shower in private!
Remember the Alamo!
Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.