Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Frog On A Hot Tin Roof

Once upon a time, a maurading horde (I stole that from one of the Y's - you'll understand in a minute. Thanks CD) of cousins descended upon their grandparents farm. In a perfect world, they all would have been dressed in freshly starched cotton clothing, and would have been playing a nice game of Ring Around the Rosey. But this was not a perfect world, and Grandma didn't care what we wore as long as we stayed OUTSIDE!

One hot summer day some of the cousins became bored and decided to find creative ways to torture their much younger counterparts. Something sinister was afoot; however, the much younger contingent were too busy catching bees and baking fresh mud pies to notice. As high noon approached, the heat waves visibly resonated off of the barn roof. The tin seemed to dance as it heated to temperatures to rival the bowels of hell.

Unaware of pending doom, an innocent frog made the mistake of hopping within sight of the much older marauders. The sight of poor Prince Charming triggered those Y-chromosomes faster than you could say "dang".

The much younger group was nearby innocently eating all of the blueberries that they could shove into their mouths. They were smiling and chatting about who would get to lick the paddles when the ice cream was churned (by hand) later that evening. The much younger children could not have been happier. Blue teeth and all.

Things happened so quickly that it's difficult to remember the exact chain of events. The much younger group was summoned to the barn by those with the explosive Y-chromosomes. Their deceptive smiles led the much younger folks to believe that something wonderful was about to occur - perhaps they had found a really cool bug, or maybe even a bird nest! I can say without a shadow of a doubt that the much younger ones were ill-prepared for what happened next.

As the much younger group approached the barn, they noticed that Y#1 was holding something in his hand. At this point they could hardly contain themselves. Their pace quickened, and their hearts fluttered. Just as they reached the barn, Y#2 gave the signal and Y#1 drew his hand back into launch position. It's still vividly etched in my mind because it happened in slow motion. Y#1 heaved-ho and poor Prince Charming hit that hot tin roof with a resounding THUD. When he first started to flail, the much younger group was certain that he would just jump down. Silly kids. Their confidence waned when Prince Charming began to look more like an egg than a frog. It didn't take the much younger ones long to realize that he had gone to Froggie Heaven.

Being the oldest of the much younger horde, I felt it was my duty to make sure Y#1 and Y#2 were appropriately punished for the mental anguish they had inflicted upon their own blood kin. So , of course, I went to TELL ON THEM! Their laughter faded as PaPa approached the barn to survey the carnage. They knew they were in big, big, big, big trouble.

I don't recall their exact punishment, but I guarantee they didn't get to lick the ice cream paddles that night. So THERE! Na na na na na!

The End


Ok, Where Was I? said...

I'm so glad you got them in trouble! My brothers and I would have been bawling. We're total wusses when it comes to animals.

Chesapeake Bay Woman said...

Bhe - Thank goodness I'm not the only older sibling with responsibilities that somehow got twisted into, well, anything other than being responsible! I love the blueberry teeth image.