FarmBarbie

Ah. That’s what sisters are for. Just this week I was driving EIGHT HOURS with my one sister and I was laughing and crying so hard I almost drove off the road. THAT’S the stuff memories are made out of.

It wasn’t so much hunting as it was POACHING. As in: the middle of the night, spotlights, military weapons, no hunting licenses.

But, I have it from a very reliable source that poaching is far more exciting than actual hunting.

Shooting the M-40 was amazing, but actually getting the animal I was shooting at was more than I expected.

Bridge jumping is a tradition of sorts in our family. I remember hearing tales of it when I was young, my father used to do it and it angered my mother to no end.

This past summer, my sister and I scouted the perfect bridge. The origonal bridge that held many family stories was a bit far. We tried going to Suicide Bridge, but it was closed for repairs. As in: not connected to land.

Finially, in the middle of a party, we had seen a nearby bridge and gathered a posse to go. Because it was summer, we were wearing swimsuits under our clothes. We all arrived at the bridge, however, one of our jumping members was injured. He would be watching and cheering.

I first swam into the river to check the depth. It was well over our heads, but very muddy. Actually, the mud was quite DEEP.

We rallied at the top of the bridge. However, from our vantage point on the bridge we could see that there was a sherriff parked not to far away, we weren’t sure if he had seen us, so we knew we needed to jump quickly. Everyone else chickened out. I jumped. Turned out as SOON as I jumped the sherriff started moving our way. However, because of the deep mud, when I jumped, I got stuck pretty bad. Thus taking up more time.

By the time I came up for air, everyone was scattering. We all made it back to our cars in time except for Gimpy. Gimpy, was, well, GIMPY! And he refused help. So as precious seconds ticked by, he gimped to the car.

FINIALLY, we left. The sherriff tailed us for a few miles, but wouldn’t pull us over since we weren’t speeding. My sister, who is not well versed in the art of evasionary driving, couldn’t lose him. Even though we patiently drove in the most legal way possible, he pulled us over.

Has asked what we were doing. Apparently, he didn’t see my dripping wet self in the backseat. What he did see was my beauty queen sister in her bikni. We were let go with a quick lecture about the illegality and danger of it. Oh. And, the last thing he said

“It’s a good thing you kids didn’t jump, ‘cause ya’ll would be dead now, if you had.”

You heard it, from the sherriff’s mouth, I’m a ghost.