Keep On Truckin

6:30 AM. I wake up and feel terrific. I step out of bed, make myself a perfect latte' and look out onto the pasture and gaze at the beautiful morning sunshine beaming down onto the dew dropped green grass and contented cows. The rooster's crow greets the day as the black and white dog's begin their morning rounds. I have plenty of time so I decide to clean out the microwave before I prepare Wyatt's breakfast and pack his lunch. Today is the last full day of school and the last lunch I'll make for his fifth grade year. I finish my chores and go in to wake up Wy. I lay out his clothes and set the table as he brushes his teeth and gets dressed. What a perfect morning. Before long, it's time to leave for school. Wyatt and the dogs load up into the truck. I collect Wyatt's bag and my purse, load his crutches and climb in beside him. Mother F*#K%@ the F'ing Battery is dead!! Sh!t! Now what?



I tell myself not to panic. I can take the farm truck. I open the "gate" that 6 ran through when the brakes went out on the tractor two summers ago that we never got around to fixing. Now it's just sheep fencing hung from a post attached to a nail. I go up to the barn, climb in the truck and WaLa! It starts right up. Now all I have to do is drive it down and jump start the other truck. But wait. Theres a bunch of rocks and a full water trough in the way. I can't fit the F'ing truck through. Ok, no big deal. I get out of the truck, go tell Wyatt to get in the farm truck, grab his crutches, get the dogs out of the truck and put them in the house. The dogs take off down to the pasture. I start to holler at the dogs while clapping my hands and stomping my feet to get them to come back. I start crying. I quit crying. I trick the dogs with treats. I put the dogs in the house. I feel bad about lying to the dogs, turn around, go back in the house to give the dogs cheese. I get back in the truck with Wy. Wy forgot his bag in the other truck. It starts to rain. I get Wyatt's F'ing bag. I get back in truck. I drive through the pasture. I get out and open the gate. I drive through. I get out and close the gate. I drive through the next pasture, get out and open the other gate. I drive through into the mobile spaces. I get out and close the gate. After walking through thigh high wet grass in a cotton skirt and worn out Birkenstocks, I realize I'm soaking wet and slipping in my sandals. I hike up my wet skirt, get back in the truck, wave to people in the mobile spaces and drive away leaving behind a cloud of white smoke, wet hay and a shoe.



The battery charger in the garage only has one alligator clampy thing on it and I can't find the other clampy thing. It appears as though I may be driving the stupid red farm truck for a while, so if I pass you on the road and paint chips fly off and hay flies out, I apologize. Oh yeah, the speedometer doesn't work either, so if you're behind me and I'm only going 25 in a 45 you'll know why.