I’m going to include myself in the bad day thing, although mine wasn’t anywhere near the bad that followed Big Boss around.
Yes. It started off good. Cold. But good.
But Big Boss had hurt his shoulder over the weekend and FINALLY decided that maybe he’d better get the injured tended to. Good idea!!
So he called the doctor while he was loading molasses on his feed truck.
You might exclaim, “Molasses??!!!” Yep, it’s part of the cattle feed ration formula.
“Formula?!!!” might be the next thing you exclaim in wonderment. Yep, molasses is good for the cattle. It’s kinda like that wonderful maple syrup us humans love to pour on our pancakes. So think of the molasses poured all over the corn silage as Cow Pancakes.
And Big Boss proceeded to feed a couple of thousand head of cattle.
But there was a problem. During the phone call to the doc, he forgot to turn the molasses switch off. Which meant…
Top top it all off, when Big Boss discovered that he had doused most of the feedmill with a sticky goo, he bent over and out fell his cell phone. Into the molasses.
That’s when he tore over to the house, where I was casually getting ready to go get groceries. “Grab some paper towels!!!!” I did and carefully took the phone off his hands. Literally.
Then he told me what had happened and I was pretty sure I needed to just nod “OK” and stay out of his path. And clean the sticky phone up.
Luckily, the phone seemed ok, so I placed it on the counter with a note saying it was OK and took off for groceries. And wondered if maybe I should stay home in case the guys needed something like soap or hoses…but it was the only day I had to go, so I went.
I got to the next town and my phone rang. Urgent message from the farm mechanic…”We NEED a phone number out of BB’s phone. Can you get it?”
Uh nope. I’m not home but I can tell you where it’s at. That seemed to be OK. I sat where I had pulled the pickup off the highway and thought, “Maybe I should just go home.” But no, I HAD to get the groceries that day.
So I took off. Literally.
As I hit 80 MPH, the speedometer got my attention and I hit the brake.
Too late. Way too late.
Yep. Our friendly patrolman zipped past me…or I zipped past him. Whatever. I knew I was busted so didn’t even let him turn around and turn on his little lights. I just pulled over into a turnoff.
And waited. And thought, “how stupid was that.”
As Friendly Patrolman handed me my ticket, I smiled and said, “You have the distinctive honor of being the patrolman who gave this 63 year old lady her FIRSST TICKET. Ever.”
He was not amused. He didn’t smile. He only said, “Yeah, I saw that on your record.” Period.
I thought about taking a selfie of me with him, but somehow, I just don’t think he would’ve been game for that.
And so, my perfect record is no more. I am a fallen woman with a checkered past. It was the one thing I could brag about. My Claim to Fame, if you will. Never had a ticket. No not one. Oh, I had been stopped several times but always got a warning.
Big Boss loved to laugh and accuse me of batting my eyelashes at the patrolmen who stopped me. Or I must’ve shed a tear? Are you kidding me?!!! I wouldn’t stoop to either one. They either give me a ticket or not.
This time was The Time. There was no “not”. So busted.
And so the horrible day ended. Well, not before I got to the grand’s basketball game late due to being held up by a stranger.
However. Big Boss didn’t make the game or the program. He had spent the day scooping and hauling molasses. He rolled in to the kitchen around 8 that night and he was one tired dude!
Plus…he was a pretty big mess….soaked to the bone in sticky sweetness.
Now I wonder…how many times will I have to wash his molasses soaked clothes! Thankfully he has his own washer in his own bathroom. Score 2 for me.
BTW…the family and most of the town now knows about my ruined record and there is no end to the ridicule I am facing. I am a ruined woman.