Josh came to build a pig pen and this is how it went.
Can I help? Can I help? Can I help?
Imagine seagulls.
I can't reach. Help. Help. Help.
Again, imagine seagulls.
She turned that socket wrench in style, look at them lips.
"Hey? Hey? Friend. After this can we make an in(b)ention together. It will have four levers. One lever will be for smoke, to get rid of the geese. And uhuhuh. The other lever will be for drinks. Then the other lever will be for drinks. And uhuhuh. Then the other lever will be for ice. And uhuhuh. Then the last lever will be very important. Can we uhuh do that next? We need to build our in(b)ention before daddy gets home, okay? Oh, and, and, and, and after the pigs come, can I swim in there swimming pool with them?"
"This is a pigpen not a swimming pool, son."
"But, but, but I want swimming pigs."
"Josh, can you make that happen? Can we get some swimming pigs?"
Josh said slowly, "Yeah, I think mom has some pigs with webbed feet." He emphasized webbed feet with an eye roll.
Think of pigs with goose feet and try not to smile.
I have toes of steel. I can walk around this farm in my bare toes. Over gravel, through poop, and across ditches. My feet are as pressed steel.
Pressed steel? Really brother.
Yeah, really.
Catch this weed.
Just kidding my hands were empty.
Giggling. Lip stick on my teeth. Don't care. Still beautiful.
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