Last week when Hoss was here for a visit we were chattin' about where to go for dinner and he suggested Chinese...Mongolian Beef to be exact. Now, I'm sorry y'all, but on Thursday of lab week 2006 I ate enough Asian food to last me a lifetime. The dang cheapskate restaurant lady even gave us fortune cookies and mine wasn't worth a damn. God bless whatever vendor paid that big ass tab because I wasn't happy with my fortune. Keep the faith, it said. I was hoping for something along the lines of "True love will find you and bring the glass slipper and multiple orgasms. It will fit just right." Vicki told me that's what matters, and she's an expert on all things cerebral.

Anyhow, back to our story. Hoss had slept like a rock the night before and was ready for a drink, so I went to the liquor store to get some sour mash whiskey. Being a Tennessee girl and all, naturally Jack Daniels jumped out at me when Rebel Yell wasn't available for purchase at this particular store. I'm a beer kinda gal so I don't know about such things. We got all giggly drinking and talking and I suggested we might tour the farm in my trusty Toyota Camry. Hoss said that he was doin' whatever I was doing. Hoo boy...sucks to be him.

The river circles the entire farm and there are little sloughs here and there where the fishies bite right nice. I headed across the field to the closest one, oblivious to the fact that there had been a right smart of rain during the previous few days. I'm used to puddle jumpin' around here and we cruised right on over several before landing in the mud. Up to the axles of said Camry with three hubcaps. *shit* No cellphones on us and almost dark.

I left Hoss in the car with his fruit jar while I hoofed it the mile or so back to the house to call for a wrecker. Lowery's is just up the road a piece so I called them and dude said he'd be right there. The plan was for me to meet him at the end of Pecan Lane. Butterbean followed me when I struck out walkin' back down the road to meet wrecker guy. When I saw him speeding down the main road I started running and waving my arms to get his attention. I reckon it worked cuz he turned onto Pecan Lane. Poops hopped into the cab of the monster truck with flames painted on the cab and off we went with Butters right behind us. He had just washed the monster thing so he wanted to "walk it" to where the car was mired in the muck and rescue Hoss. Then he'd come back later with the little red wrecker and pull the car out. Me and dude and Butterbean struck off walking and met Hoss about halfway to the car. "Don't TOUCH me!" he said. "You left me here to DIE." Umm...okay FINE then. Why the hell did I come back?

About that time Butterbean spotted a skunk out in the field and started barkin' her fool terrier head off. I tried to bring her in but NooooooO. The little bitch kept on until she got sprayed real good for the first time in her young life. Hoss jumped in the cab for the ride home, insisting that Butterbean needed a ride too. Wrecker dude assured him that she would follow us, so I climbed onto the running board against the painted flames and held onto the door while skunk dawg brought up the rear. Don't believe that tomato juice hogwash, y'all. Old Poops has learned the hard way that peroxide + vinegar is the only thing that works. Butters got a good dose of it when we got back to the house. And so it goes.

We made up pretty quick, all three of us. Gene liked the pork tenderloin with honey mustard sauce and Butters survived the bath to sleep, de-skunked, next to her new best friend. All that drama just wore my old ass out so I went to bed in BabyGirl's room and said to hell with it. Slept like a pet rock.

Hossie woke up all smiles the next day when I took off to buy a new tire and breakfast so I could get him to the airport and off to Tish's where Texas and Arkansas meet.

It's so hard to be Butterbean.