He and I spent long hours playing cave men--the essential equipment being cow bones and bits of dog hair--chasing "dinosaurs" through head-high weeds, barefoot of course since Nikes weren't a part of prehistoric man's wardrobe.Thinking back on our childhood entertainments, so many relied heavily on throwing things--throwing rotten eggs at the junk pile, throwing algae from the stock tank at each other, and throwing cow pies at anything that moved. It makes me wonder why, when I wanted the Presidential Patch for Physical Fitness more than life itself, it was the throwing part I flunked. Maybe if they had let me use a cow pie...
My brother and I were really a "couple of wild indians," as my grandma used to say, with tough-as-leather feet from running barefoot on gravel roads and a constant ring of dirt around our necks that Mom always insisted on scrubbing 'til raw and bloody before going to town.
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