Sunday, July 10, 2011

Hungry Mother


 "...I love you like an RC Cola Drank,
you and me go together like a skunk goes with stank..."

That's a line from an email forward my dad got when I was probably thirteen or fourteen.  He printed it out and read it to the family over dinner one night and I thought it was absoutely hilarious.  I think the whole composition was a poem that had a title like, "A Redneck Sonnet by Billy Bob Shakespeare" or some such silliness.  Obviously, it stuck with me since it popped back into my mind just a few minutes ago.

Surprisingly (or perhaps, unsurprisingly) this little verse reminds me of my dear sweet husband and I.  Yes, we really do go together like a skunk goes with stank.  How adorable.

I've been thinking about this today after spending a day and a night chaperoning an FFA (Future Farmers of America, for you all who didn't grow up in the country) leadership weekend trip with said husband at Hungry Mother State Park in Marion, Virginia.  I played the older, more mature (haha!) wifely and motherly influence to the six teenagers that went on the trip, got very little sleep, and participated in all manner of games cooked up by young teenage minds.  It was a great time, me good-naturedly teasing Aaron Ray about trying to cook frozen french fries on a campstove with some of his favorite students giggling and listening in...my favorite part is when the girls announced at almost midnight, after a rousing game of chubby bunny (ARay got second place...I was dead last), that they really liked me...that I was fun.  

The fries were not good.  The ribs (not shown) were.
I am fun, gol' durn it!  Even if, now that I've come home, I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself.  I've been a good semi-farmwife and tended my 'maters and herb garden; I have cleaned the whole downstairs of my house, put new sheets on every bed, washed, dried and folded every stitch of laundry in the house (the fire alarm outside the laundry room door has gone off three times from all the steam coming from the room every time I opened the door), and have grand plans to organize the upstairs of the house, which, has largely been the cat's domain since we moved in.  Fred and I are also becoming good friends, even if he is getting a little fresh with me.  He thinks he can take liberties now that I've become his nurse-maid.  I'm having a hard time convincing him that sucking on my pant-legs and head-butting me in the behind all around will not get his bottle to him any faster.  Silly calf.  I'll be glad when his real momma comes back from the trip.

The picture is blurry because the calf tried to suck on the camera lens.  I tried to wipe it off.  Oh well.
I sincerely doubt that ARay will be this productive when I'm gone to the AVMA convention next week - I'm enjoying feeling so important that vendors feel like they need to overnight me promotional materials before the convention.  This one gave everyone a laugh at work recently:


First of all, the package was addressed to me at home, but since the UPS man knows that my dogs destroy packages left on the front porch, and also knows where I work, he left it at the office instead.  Such a nice man.  The mail-carrier also knows this, but instead, leaves packages in Aaron Ray's truck which is usually parked in the driveway.  Country folk are so conscientious.

Second of all, this is all that was in the package:


Who needs a tick remover when you have one attached to your arm?  I can't imagine myself running off to go grab my tick key every time I spot a tick on something at work.  Oh wait, maybe that's why there's a hole in the top.  I think it would look gorgeous as a necklace!  I could keep it with me all the time!  Brilliant.
I'd like to have half of the money that Merial spends on things like this.

At any rate, it's been a wonderful weekend so far.  Wonderful enough that I think I'll just wash the one lonely dirty dish in the dishwasher by hand and call it a day.  Summertime is such a blessing.  I just love it.


Here's the poem, fresh from google, for your reading pleasure:


Collards is green, my dog's name is Blue
And I'm so lucky to have a sweet thang like you.
Yore hair is like corn silk a-flapping in the breeze.
Softer than Blue's and without all them fleas.

You move like the bass, which excite me in May.
You ain't got no scales but I luv you anyway.
Yo're as satisfy'n as okry jist a-fry'n in the pan.
Yo're as fragrant as "snuff" right out of the can.

You have some'a yore teeth, for which I am proud;
I hold my head high when we're in a crowd.
On special occasions, when you shave under yore arms,
Well, I'm in hawg heaven, and awed by yore charms.

Still them fellers at work, they all want to know,
What I did to deserve such a purdy, young doe.
Like a good roll of duct tape, yo're there fer yore man,
To patch up life's troubles and fix what you can.

Yo're as cute as a junebug a-buzzin' overhead.
You ain't mean like those far ants I found in my bed.
Cut from the best cloth like a plaid flannel shirt,
You spark up my life more than a fresh load of dirt.

When you hold me real tight like a padded gunrack,
My life is complete; Ain't nuttin' I lack.
Yore complexion, it's perfection, like the best vinyl sidin'.
Despite all the years, yore age, it keeps hidin'.

Me 'n' you's like a Moon Pie with a RC cold drank,
We go together like a skunk goes with stank.
Some men, they buy chocolate for Valentine's Day;
They git it at Wal-Mart, it's romantic that way.

Some men git roses on that special day
From the cooler at Kroger. That's impressive," I say.
Some men buy fine diamonds from a flea market booth.
"Diamonds are forever," they explain, suave and couth.

But for this man, honey, these won't do.
Cause yor'e too special, you sweet thang you.
I got you a gift, without taste nor odor,
More useful than diamonds......IT'S A NEW TROLL'N MOTOR!!

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