I have two brothers- Jeremy(who is 14) and Timothy(who is 11). Jeremy is big and somewhat burly, and Tim is smaller and...well...thin. They are always doing something together- whether it is work or play- and always manage to get into the most...well...interesting circumstances.
My brothers are very different in personalities, but they both share one very important dream. The dream is to be a 'country boy'.
Definition of 'Country Boy': A person who has a country accent, wears dirty clothes, likes to hunt and fish and can survive without a playstation- This also includes being 'rough and tough' as it were.
They frequently have competitions about who is a 'country boy' and who is a 'city boy'...competitions that usually are completely ridiculous and have absolutely nothing to do with actually living in the country. Jeremy usually wins these competitions simply because he is bigger and stronger. He has convinced himself that when you look up the term 'country boy' in the dictionary you will see his picture.
I tell him to give it up....not that what I say generally matters.
Anyway, Jeremy's best friend, Jonathon, really is a country boy...and he tells Jeremy all sorts of stories about hunting and how you tan pelts etc. Jonathon has also given many tips on how to shoot squirrels and small animals. To shoot squirrels you are supposed to have a rifle...unfortunately all that we have in the house is a cheap BB gun. But does that bother Jeremy? No sir. Everytime he sees a squirrel he grabs the gun, rushes out the door and shoots...
Most of the time he narrowly misses, but if he does hit the target it doesn't really do anything to the squirrel because it takes over 20 good shots at very close range to actually kill a squirrel.
...oh, when it comes to killing squirrels, I am all for that. My personal belief is that squirrels are just about the greatest pests that were created. I hate them. They thoroughly deserve to be shot because they dig up my garden.
ok, enough about that. Back to the story...
My mom does her best to help us to eat healthy food. She even goes so far as to grind her own wheat flour about every two weeks. Grinding flour is very unpleasant indoors. Not only does it coat everything with fine dust that gets in your lungs, but it also makes an incredible noise. So, naturally we do it outside.
One fine september day, Timothy ran into the house to tell Jeremy that he had found a squirrel. Timothy was so excited that he almost slipped and fell down the stairs. Anyway, the squirrel was half hidden behind a bush and had been dead for some time. Jeremy was ecstatic because Jonathon had recently told him that you can sell squirrel tails as fishing lures for $5 apiece...
...some people will do anything to make money.
Jeremy put on a pair of rubber gloves and moved the squirrel over to the driveway so he would have a good hard surface to cut the tail off....unfortunately it was also wheat-grinding day.
Jeremy's knife was so dull that it took him a good 5 minutes to actually separate the tail from the rest of the body. He and Tim proceeded to salt the tail and leave it in the sun for about 5 hours...
Unbenounced to me, they had left the squirrel tail about 5 feet away from the wheat grinder.
When I stepped over the threshold to the carport, I was horrified to see individual squirrel hairs scattered all over the wheat grinder...
You can probably guess what I did next.
I brought out the broom, swept all the hair away, covered the wheat and picked all the hair out of the all ready ground flour.
Talk about a mess...
Let's just say that that's never happening again.
Jeremy never was able to sell that tail.
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