I live in the sticks. 9 miles out to be exact. We’re like Green Acres…minus the money and the pig.
Living in the sticks requires you to teach your children special skills. Like making sure the pile of mud their playing in is actually mud, not cow manure or like how to pull a baby calf out of a momma cow.
Not that my children have done anything like that.
There comes a time in every girl’s life on the farm when they must learn to tinkle outside. With boys, I’m sure it’s a lot easier but for girls there tends to be a whole lot of drama.
Squatting. Not peeing on their feet. Shaking instead of wiping.
Ella has recently learned to pee in the wilderness and it has been such a life changing experience for her that she wants to give the whole world a golden shower. Last week I was wondering through the house and couldn’t find her anywhere. I finally looked out the back door to see her butt naked in the driveway watering the gravel. It seems the toilet is too much trouble.
Panties are now taboo cause she thinks the whole world is her litter box.
Even on the trampoline…she is naked…waiting to make her next tinkle.
My husband said he always dreamed about living in a house where panties were coming off all the time.
This wasn’t what he had in mind.
Sorry Rico, you can’t have everything.