Fancy Pants

I can remember a time when life was really simple. When a good day was when you got new black wranglers for your horse shows and the big day of 4H when you paraded your sheep for slaughter for an absurdly high price. I was 8, and I had my new black wranglers on paired with one of my many “Little Mermaid” t-shirts, I was a fashionista, even back then. I knew I wasn’t supposed to wear those wranglers for play, so I was just parading my outfit in the house for all of my adoring fans..aka: no one. Anyway, my dad called me out to go with him, so I found this a perfect time to sneak out of the house with those fancy suckers on. My dad was getting small squares loaded in the pickup and I was climbing on the stacks jumping around “jack-be-nimble style”, I am still to this day not entirely sure what the hell happened, but with an almighty thwack I found myself on the ground with a hay bale on top of me. Shit. So, my dad, the nurturer he is, is laughing his ass off at me. Dirt bag. Two things happened that day: I learned you cannot always count on your dad to get you out of a sticky situation and it’s not really a good idea to wear your black wranglers when you aren’t supposed to. Karma is a bitch that way.