Hick is Like a Box of Chocolates

No, I'm not saying Hick is sweet. I'm saying you never know what you're going to get. Hick goes from one predicament to another, with barely enough time for me to catch my breath.

Sunday, The Pony and I left to do the shopping, with Hick in the front yard talking to HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) and HOS's seven-year-old son. When we returned, there was no sign of any of them. That's not unusual. We set to putting away the groceries. No sooner had we begun than The Pony's phone rang.

"Oh. Okay. I'll be there in a minute." Heavy sigh. "Dad has the Gator stuck in the creek, and wants me to come get him out."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I have to bring him back to get the tractor." The Pony grabbed his keys and left. Darn that Hick all to heck, leaving me to do my own chores while he stole my helper! Hick has an incredible sense of timing. On Mother's Day, even! You'd think a woman could at least have her own son help HER on Mother's Day, and not run off to save his father from his latest error in judgment.

As soon as I finished putting away the last item, The Pony returned. Obviously having inherited his father's sense of timing.

"Dad already had it out by the time I got there."

Of course I had to rub it in to Hick when he got back to the house.

"I can't believe you stole The Pony away from me! I remember the days when you could actually WALK back to the house from the creek. You could have got the tractor yourself."

"Val. I wasn't down by the cabin. I was at the low water bridge getting sand for my sidewalk." That's out on the county road, about two miles from the homestead.

Never mind.