Saturday, August 6, 2016

Keeping It Real


I tried to sue my grandparents for all the angst they created in me growing up. 

Telling a child it is "raining cats and dogs," and then yelling at me about needing to put on my rain gear before I could go outside was traumatizing.  First of all, it made me highly nervous because I could never ever seem to get my gear on fast enough.  Secondly, it created a life-long issue with rubber boots.  I am not quite sure what the issue is but if I say that I have one, it is plausible and it keeps me from having to shop for them or from ever having to put on a pair again considering on the farm, there were no cute little shiny yellow ducky rubber boots, or even shiny red ones.  That is for city kids.  Farm kids get standard mud green/gray, dual purpose boots meant for both rain and cleaning out the barn.


Then when I would finally get outside in the rain, I was never able to find anything resembling a cat or a dog.  I did find this kind of gray furry something once, lying face down in a mud puddle.  Well, I assumed it was face down.  It could have been a face but then again, people see the face of Jesus in cheese so I might have just been reverting to babyhood and was seeing the pattern of a face anywhere I could on account of no-one wanted to bond with me when I was born and we all know that leads to a lifetime of searching for some form of human face that you can call mommy.  They had to use a jackhammer to pry Mr. Potato Head out of my hands once I got the whole eyes, nose and mouth thing down pat and we won't even talk about Wooly Willy.

Actually, I am not even sure the face thing I found was furry but it could have been.  It also could have just been road kill or someone's winter muff that showed up in the spring thaw.

I tried to bring it inside, name it, and fluff it up.  I even made it a little bed.  It was actually more fluffy when it was wet than when it dried.  Dried it looked like a flattened gopher after it was on the road for 8 years and everyone's combine had been back and forth over it a gazillion times . . . only less fluffy than that.   

I was really reaching to try and make it into a puppy or a kitty.

I know you are probably wishing I could be a lot more uplifting in these moments we share.  I know you are probably looking for Pinterest type photo moments that make you get all emotional with their cuteness but this is the best I can do folks.  And believe me, you might not be able to see me, but I am emotional.  I can see my reflection in the computer screen and it is def emotional.

I kept running out to look for cats and dogs whenever it rained.  Well I ran out and looked once the rain gear was on and I had finished breathing in a paper bag because I was so stressed from not being able to find it and fearing someone would see me in those gosh awful farm rubber boot.  I never even found a fur ball. 

I went through the first part of my life thinking I was blind.  I was so convinced I started to try and tain a cow to become my seeing eye cow.  The cow got the rolling over part pat but it was not at all discerning or protective of me when it came to crossing the street.  It would just wander out and then stop so the trucks could be sure and run over me.  Oh wait, maybe that was my brother pretending to be a cow and not the actual cow.  Anway, it wasn't until I was much older that I finally realized I wasn't blind.  I got it.  There weren't actually any cats or dogs at all.  Ya, I remember that day.  2 days after my 42nd birthday.  

Once people know you aren't blind, they don't really buy the whole "I see with my hands," line and they start to get all territorial about their pants.


"it's raining cats and dogs."  Who came up with such a stupid saying anyway?

I am a big fan of realism now.  I just call it like it is with my grandkids.  I tell them it is raining water.  I know they will probably grow up and say grandma killed the magic but someone has to do it.

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