This Worthy and Wierd Quote is a little nasty but it was so funny that I had to include it here.
I would guess that our boys were about 13 and 16 years old at the time it happened. We were still living near Custer but were spending that particular day helping Grandpa S. get some things done around the ranch.
Grandpa was known to everyone as ‘Bud’. He had been born a cowboy and had lived his whole life at the ranch. Bud was mostly a quiet man but he could get fired up on occasion when stuff broke down, the price of cigarettes went up or the football games he loved to watch didn’t turn out as he had hoped. Basically, he was a tough old rancher with skin like tanned leather and a vocabulary that sometimes bordered on the – shall we say – spicy side of life?
This particular day had been a long, hot one filled with broken down equipment, skinned up knuckles and busy grandkids. We had finally had all the ‘fun’ we could stand so had stopped for a cold drink at the kitchen table. Grandpa was in the middle of telling a story – about what or who I can’t remember but our youngest son had obviously come in at the middle of the story because he didn’t know what or who it was about either. Unfortunately, he was trying to figure out what Grandpa was talking about just as Grandpa was trying to finish his story. My baby (actually a teenager) kept asking,
“Who? Who are you talking about? Who? Who?”
Grandpa had reached his last nerve and answered back,
“You don’t shit through feathers!”
It was one of those rare moments in time when the world and everything on it stopped mid-step and you pause with creased brow trying to process the words you think you just heard before asking, “What did you say?”
Grandpa was frazzled and our son was speechless (but secretly thrilled to quickly file these words of wisdom – complete with a 4-letter ‘sentence enhancer’ away for future use).
The rest of us were practically worthless as we laughed till tears streamed from our eyes. Everybody laughed about that one – even Grandpa and our boy.
I can’t blame HBO for teaching my children to cuss like sailors. They were born ranch kids and since most ranchers have a colorful language you’re bound to pick up a few choice words that always seem to pop out at the most inopportune times.
(I’m still really, really sorry about that one time, Pastor Dave)
When our boys were little and throughly fascinated with those 4-letter words I finally had to make a deal with them – they could cuss but only when we were working cattle. I figured this was OK since it seems to be the only language cattle understand.
Now, you might think I’m a terrible mother but I must admit this arrangement worked out pretty well. The boys actually watched their language at school and public places but on horseback, in a corral full of wild-eyed cattle they could blister the paint off the side of the barn.
I always had to laugh when the neighbors would come to help work cattle – seeing the shocked looks on their faces, the boys were always quick to explain…
RanchDaze 