So many of you know from the pic I posted yesterday that there was a small problem with Robert getting his truck stuck on some old farmland. It should have been a small problem. And it probably WOULD have been a small problem, if men knew when to just move over and let a woman drive. After we got him out the FIRST time, (at that point he was pulling and I was driving his truck) he promptly tells me get on out, Ill drive it out now. Alrighty. I drive on out in my truck (notice I did not get stuck) and sit...he never appears. I wait. Drink sundrop. Have small talk with Blaze. Then I see him...on foot. He does not look happy. Not at all. I resist the urge to look very happy. He makes a big dramatic wave of his arms and yells I need you back here, PUH-LLEEAASSEE. Of course, I say. Right away. And I turn my truck around and drive back to his where we do the whole connect the chain whatever guys do, and he tells me again how to maneuver his truck when he pulls to get it unstuck. Because, of course, Im a woman, and I cant possibly know. Even though I had just done it like ten minutes previously, and managed to drive all around him in my own truck but I guess thats just beside the point. And that, my friends, is when it all went to hell in a handbag.Now, my girlfriends will know the connection between a coastal country girl and her flipflops. There are two types of shoes...western boots, and flipflops. Everything you dont need a western boot for, you can do in flipflops. Its common knowledge. Run, hike, whatever. But many of us who are hardcore country know about the demonic entity that is the flip flop sandal suckin mud. This is not regular mud. Dont be fooled. You step in this mud wearing flip flops, its over. You aint getting out. If you were in a tennis shoe or some little prissy pump, you could just pull your foot out. But in this case, your foot is help hopelessly captive by the straps of your flip flops and they are dragging you down into an abyss in the earth possibly never to be seen again. And that, yall, is what I stepped in as I went to get in Roberts truck. Oh my word the panic. By the time I realized one foot was being eaten I had grabbed onto the steering wheel in a desperate attempt to save myself and possibly my other foot. I scream for help. He yells Whats wrong? And I scream Im being sucked away by the mud. The killer mud. And its all because of you. He WALKED, did not run, WALKED, over where I was hangin on his steering wheel for dear life and dug my foot out , flip flop gone forever. Im black from head to toe, shoeless, arm hurt from holding on to a steering wheel for dear life, and being eaten by mosquitos who have all resided in my hair . And then it happens. He says it. He says the words. The words that he will never forget. He looks in horror past me and says Oh my God, how did all this mud get in my truck?? And that is where I will end this summary of last evening. Because I want the reading content to stay as family friendly as possible. But to answer the question that just went through all yalls heads, yes, he is still with us. Yall have a good day.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 16:41:49 +0000