This year a cousin (who we call Aunt Twila) was there to haul mom back home. Thank God, cause the last time we had to do this I left it up to my SINthia‘s brother (who we call Uncle Knothead) that may have been my first mistake. His idea of getting Mom home and mine a two different things. The story went something like this…

*Sis on the phone with Uncle Knothead*

“Hey, you’re gonna pick Mom up today, right?”

“Ten-four!” (He’s a trucker. Can you tell?)

“Cool. Okay, she’s getting turned loose about one, so if you can’t make it…”

“I’VE GOT IT COVERED, SIS!”

“Alrighty then. Tell her to call me when she gets to the hospital.”

“Ten-four!”

“Yeah, over and out then. C-mon.”

I get a phone call a few hours later from Mom.

“Sis, this is your mother…” (Like I don’t know the sound of her voice.) “Uncle Knothead called and said Dano is going to be in Lincoln anyway to pick up his mother from the airport and instead of Knothead making an extra trip, he set it up so I could ride with them.”

Needless to say I was a little horrified. Dano and his mother are great people, it was just the principle. Again, not my idea of covering it. I glanced at the clock and decided there wasn’t time for me to drive the three hours up there. So I just gritted my teeth and thought Mister Redneck truck driver is going to get an ear full, next time I talk to him. Ten-four?!!

The next phone call I got was well after dark. It was Mom again, giggling this time. She has the most musical laugh you’ve ever heard. I love it. It puts me at ease.

“Sis, this is your mother. I made it.”

“Oh good, Mom, I’m so glad. What’s so funny?”

“Your brother.”

“Oh Gawd, what happen?”

“Well, it’s deer season in Nebraska.”

(I had forgotten. Their season opens before ours does in Kansas.) “That explains a lot.”

“Yes! Well, there we were (Knothead, Dano and me) driving down the road in Knothead’s Suburban.” (It seems they picked him up somewhere along the way.) ” A BIG buck crossed the road in front of us ran out and stopped about 80 yards out in this pasture…”

(Knothead) “He as big as I think he is, Dano?”

(Dano) “Yup!”

(Knothead sliding the Suburban sideways while putting a shell in his gun.) “I think I’ve got to have him.”

*Boom. Whop. Deer drops. Uncle Knothead’s driving, again.* (The whole thing took less than a minute.)

(Mom) “You gonna slit his throat?”

(Knothead) “Nope, it won’t take THAT long to get you delivered.”

(Mom giggling.) “Good thing it was hip surgery and I’m not pregnant and in labor. You remind me of your father.”

(Knothead) “Oh, Mom, yer doing alright…aren’t ya?”

After arriving at our home town hospital and mom was safely in the wheel chair (but still outside…)

Knothead said, “You’re good then, Mother? I need to go pick up that buck….”

Rednecks! Sometimes it’s safer on the couch…

You know what they say. You can pick your banjo. You can pick your nose. But you can’t pick your family.

This year Aunt Twila has delivered our dear mother home. No deer were killed in the process. But then again, she didn’t have a good story either.

Just wanted you to know, your family isn’t that weird compared to us.

You’re welcome!

Sis