From this . . . |
But everyone had one!
Well, almost everyone.
Okay, he had seen one.
And wanted it . . .
It was summertime on the ranch. The perfect season of
cloudless blue skies, soft, sage-soaked breezes, warm, golden sunshine and
scented, star-studded nights.
And what better way to enjoy one’s occasional leisure hours than
by swinging – relaxed, semi-conscious and blissful - in one’s very own hammock.
To ten-year-old Mark, the concept seemed heaven-sent.
There was just one catch.
He didn’t possess a hammock.
And his parents did not appear to be forthcoming with one.
Sigh.
But Mark was a kid of the prairies. What he didn’t possess,
he made.
Or made do.
His dad was changing out the old canvas on the binder. Hmmm
. . .
Mark studied the discarded heap of coarse material carefully.
Then he scooped it up and carted it to the trees. Specifically to the two tall
trees he had picked as being the biggest and most hammock-support-like.
Sometime later, following a maximum of grunting, sweating
and words sometimes thought but seldom said, Mark was looking at a brand new hammock.
His brand new
hammock.
His pride of accomplishment over spilled its banks.
Handsprings anyone?
A party was called for.
A celebration.
A . . .
Mark would have to settle for talking his mother into
allowing him to sleep out on his new acquisition.
It took some doing, but he was finally able to convince her.
Happily, he gathered blankets and gear for his amazing
outdoor adventure and in short order was perched atop his newest and best
acquisition.
Snuggled down and shivering with delight, he waited for the
sun to go down.
Then to come up again.
Which it did.
Mark blinked sleepily at the newly-risen sun. It was then he
realized that his mouth felt . . . funny.
Sliding out of his hammock, he ran to the house and the
nearest mirror.
Where he received a distinct shock. His upper lip was swollen
like a balloon.
With no idea what could possibly have happened, he ran for
his mother. Who took one look at his face and said, calmly, “Looks like
a bug bit you, son.”
A bug bit him?! His face was three times its normal size
and ‘a bug bit him’?!
Frantically, he raced back to the mirror and minutely studied
his poor abused outside. How was he going to go through life looking like this?!
In case you're worried, I'll tell you that the swelling did go down. Fairly quickly in fact. With only
one side effect. Mark now regarded hammocks with a degree of suspicion.
I mean – no one ever told him that they could come with uninvited
and totally unexpected ‘guests’.
Overly friendly guests.
His was a hammock for one.
One.
Maybe someone should have explained that to the bug.
. . . to this. |
Any time one sleeps outside one is likely to acquire a new and unwanted friend. Nothing to do with the hammock.
ReplyDeleteYeah. Outdoor friends. Enough said . . .
DeleteHe made his own hammock? He's a very inventive child. too bad about the bug.
ReplyDeleteAn engineer to his soul!
DeleteYou had me at the pun. I didn't have to read further, I was laughing so hard! But then I did. All I can say is LOL!
ReplyDeleteHeehee! My job here is done!
DeleteI love to sleep outdoors, but I like it to at least zipped up inside of a tent! Poor Mark.
ReplyDeleteThat's me, too. I like my safety screen between me and the great Outdoors!
DeletePoor buddy--but that was a great-looking hammock!
ReplyDeleteInventive child, wasn't he? Too bad it didn't rub off on us, his children!
DeleteOw ... either that was a stealthy bug, able to bite without waking him up, or else he was sensitive to whatever the bug was totin'. Either way, ow!
ReplyDeleteExactly! Stupid bug . . .
DeleteSo unfortunate! I think it is fair to say though, that I would prefer to take my chances with a bug outdoors, than visit some establishments known for bedbugs! Does he still have the hammock?
ReplyDeleteBedbugs. Ugh. There's just something particularly nasty about bugs where it's supposed to be clean! *shiver*
Delete