In my previous post, I promised you a lot of cow manure when I next wrote. Now, my dear old Dad is very sick, so this is probably a good time to relate how silly we could all be when we were young enough to be called cheeky. He loves this kind of story:
REVENGE AND THE VEGGIE GARDEN
A huge hangover made movement, noise and light intolerable to my father one Sunday morning. Thus it was that my mother had to collect a previously arranged truckload of cow manure in his stead.
This promised to be the most exciting event of the day, so my sister and I insisted that we go with her.
The cow shit was not the dry, friable variety, as anticipated. Oh, no! It was the pungent, runny kind. The back of the truck was brimful when we left the farm.
Once home, this load of liquid cow shit presented a logistical problem. Somehow, we had to drive across the front garden to the compost heap at the end. Jenny skilfully manoeuvred the truck through the fruit trees and, as we had planned, pulled up directly in front of the open French doors, behind the curtains of which my father was nursing his sore head.
We waited patiently until the smell of cow shit found its mark.
He stood at the door in his pyjamas. When it finally dawned on him what was going on, he was not his usual cheerful self.
That’s probably enough bullshit for one day. Other nonsense in chronological order can be found in the real book, which you can purchase the book immediately from Amazon, if you like. To order your own copy – or 10 or more for easy Christmas gifts for your own relatives, click on the picture below:
© 2015 Allison Wright