Mud bath

I am happy to say that I checked riding in the back of a pickup truck naked and plastered in mud off my bucket list at a young age. Times with Jody were always an adventure even when her dad wasn’t taking us to the bar or we were trying to fight off teen boys.

Jody’s dad was a farmer, so that in itself was always an adventure. I remember walking around the barn during milking time. Looking at the bull raging in his pen was always exciting. One day while we were riding around the field in Jody’s go cart, she told me that the bull got loose. We sped around getting stuck in the mud, trying to get away from the bull that never showed.

Sometimes Jody’s dad would take us on his tractor. I remember sitting on the back of the hay wagon getting caked with alfalfa. That night I sneezed while my grandma plucked all of the alfalfa out of my hair. It was a big tangled up mess.

But the best story was when I went with Jody to the gravel pit. Her dad bought the property and was building a house. It was a warm day and one of the pits looked like a hot tub of mud. So we took off our clothes, except our underwear, and jumped in the mud. We were neck deep in our hot tub of mud when Jody’s dad found us. We had to sit on some lumber and hold onto the bar on the back of his truck to get home. What a sight we were. Two preteen girls, naked and covered with mud, sitting up in the back of the truck for the world to see. That was one fun day until Jody’s grandma hosed us down in the milk house.

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