The summer night slipped by too fast, while in my sleeping bag. My brand
new Teton Bridger gives me sleeping rights to brag.
‘Cuz there ain’t no holes in my new bag to let the heat escape. And I threw
away the well-used roll of camouflage duct tape.
When Mother Nature makes her call, I’d say more like a shout. My bed is
so dang comfy I just cannot climb on out.
My bladder feels like it could be just halfway full at best. So I’ll stay here in
my nice warm bag and bask in eye-shut rest.
But then I hear my father holler, “Get up sleepy head and kick off all your
covers, son, people die in bed.”
I heard him yell a thousand times how people die in bed. Dad’s been gone
about a year, but the phrase sticks in my head.
The heavenly smell of bacon means a biscuit’s on the rise. Soon Old Mose
will bless us with his cheese potato prize.
“Get out of those bags,” he hollers, “If you wanna eat this mornin’. It’s 4
a.m. The clock’s a tickin’. This is your only warnin’.”
I shake the night off from my clothes and head for noise and chatter. But
then I’m stopped dead in my tracks. I need to flatten my bladder.
Yet Mose ain’t one for waiting on a cowboy who’s too slow. He’ll dump your
food and say, “This ain’t the Marriott, ya know.”
So, I slipped into the cook tent with a bladder full and weak. I swear I
heard my bladder say, “We’re about to spring a leak”
That’s when I felt a trickle moving down my hairy leg. I cried goodbye to
breakfast and my salsa-covered egg.
I went from walk to running, busted through the open flap. And now I
missed my breakfast, gonna be a hungry sap.
I shuffled back to my own tent and there before my eyes, Old Mose was
handing me a plate of cheese potato prize.
That day I learned two lessons. Old Mose had a heart of gold. And Mother
Nature knows what’s best so heed what you’ve been told.
Now no more lazy loafer. I will spring right out of bed when Mother Nature
makes her call. Then off to getting fed.
STAY INFORMED. SIGN UP!
Up-to-date agriculture news in your inbox!