Redneck Adventures- Volume II Chapter VII

For those of you that do not know. My wife and I found out tonight that my illness has gone from a stage 2 to a stage 3. I am not as ill as Terry or Ira (both of whom are stage 4 rednecks because they sure do know how to banjo duel) but I am getting worse. I was sitting with my kids this afternoon, listening to the neighbors cut some of their trees down. They have been roofing and taking all of the old shingles (and nails) and scraps around the place and throwing them into a massive garbage bin that is 8 feet high and 23 feet 5 inches long (yes, i measured it). So, I sat listening to these neighbors cut away on their trees, and I sat there salivating, thinking about the phenomenal firewood that they were making out of these trees. With every loud thump of a log, I imagined sitting out behind our house, watching the smoke rise and imagining the sobe bombs that I could make. So, after my wife got home, I decided to tell her about my idea, to jump in the old shingle bin and chuck out the logs. As I was about half way finished voicing my descriptive plan to my wife, it hit me that my plan lacked intelligence and reason and only proved to my wife once more.....that I am a Redneck from Cornflake. My wife sat with her mouth wide open and just said, "Tim, you are getting into your Master's program in about a month!" The severity of my illness hit me like the snowball that my mom once hit me with, as I lay bare chested in my bedroom, refusing to get up to read scriptures as a family. I know that I would not jump into that dumpster for a pair of new Nike's. OH NO! A tetanus shot is not worth a pair of new shoes! But, for firewood, I may face the fear of stepping on a rusty nail. But, tonight I will not give in to my redneckedness. I shall do my homework, and go to bed. But tomorrow is a new day, and new redneck adventures await.