White Lightning

Last Saturday morning Wesley and I got up and got ready for our day.  He, fully dressed, went outside and started doing his feeding chores.  I wore my usual Saturday morning winter attire: shirt, sweatshirt, and white long underwear bottoms.  With socks, of course.

Its not that I don't care what I look like its just....

Wait, let's try that again.

I don't care what I look like.  It was Saturday morning, we live in the middle of nowhere (yea!) and we're married.  If that's not a trifecta of not unfashionable factors then I don't know what is. 

Wes called to say that there was a calf in my yard and I needed to run outside and get him back in - he was already blocking off one end of the road in his pickup.  Like any good rancher's wife I immediately dropped what I was doing, slipped on my mud boots and ran outside.  Running the calf in was not a big task, it probably took all of thirty seconds.  After I ran the calf in I started to walk back towards the house and I heard Wesley's evil, maniacal laugh.  I was so surprised because I usually only hear his loving and adoring chuckles (oh I crack myself up).

I turned around to find that he had whipped out his cell phone and was trying to take a picture of me.  Two options immediately flew through my head.

1) Find a blunt object and beat him to death, but there was nothing close enough.  Alas!

2) Find the nearest object larger than me and hide behind it.

The latter was still a tall order but I made a mad dash across the yard towards the fire pit I built last fall and hunkered down behind it till Wesley finally gave up on his photography project.

When he came in for lunch I immediately stole his phone and clicked my way through it till I found "the picture".  The entire screen was only a blur of white from my tookus kicking it into high gear.  Fear is an intense motivational tool when running... fyi.

And thus I earned the endearing nickname, White Lightning.