Just one more Peep…..

Dad by the Jeep

“Did Not” “Did To”

Every year at deer hunting season, we got to take time off from school and go hunting. Deer hunting was taken seriously by my parents. I was 2 weeks old the first time Mom took me hunting with her and we didn’t miss any in the years after.
One year on our way home, my Dad finally had enough of my brother and I arguing, “Did not.” “Did too” for about 500 miles and at the 499th mile, Dad broke. “If I hear another peep out of either one of you, you are going to walk home.” It was late, heavy overcast, no such thing as street lights on a small dirt road, but did that stop me? No. After all, Daddy would never hear me. He was half deaf. One teeny tiny little “Peep.”
On slammed the brakes, the door flew open, Daddy grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and out I went.
I was scared half to death and evidently little brother couldn’t stop snickering as up ahead, the brake lights again blazed on and out tumbled my brother.
We were making pretty good time considering I couldn’t run with my ruined knee and managed to keep the tail lights in sight up the twisty road. It had just stopped raining and as we neared home, the clouds started to part and a bit of moonlight shown down onto the wet road.
About a quarter mile from our driveway, was a sunken grave of one of the early day Homesteaders. As we passed the grave, the moon lit up the large dark mass slowly rising from the sunken grave, groaning “MooOOooo.”
At that point, ruined knee or not, Brother and I made it to the gate in time to open it for Daddy to drive on through going up to the house.
Our old black cow had been laying in the sunken grave and we startled her into slowly standing up, as we came rather loudly by, scaring each other with ghost stories about that grave. The moonlight on her wet hide gave her a shiny glow.

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