On the fateful date of my 8th birthday, many fateful things occurred.
Well actually, I just got stung by some wasps.
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Ona birthday trip to the barn, our tractor rode along.
I was excited, for no sane reason other than being easily excitable at such a young age.
Once in the barn, our small minded dog began digging around in the corner. I became worried because there was a tractor moving about, even though it was on the other side of a large barn and it wouldn't fit into the corner anyway.
Little did I know, danger was afoot, or maybe a yard, away.
Yes, my microbrain dog was digging up a hornets nest, not as a political allegory but as a literal digging up exercise in futility.
Exclaiming in a far too girly voice, "Oh No!" I ran up to save my dog from the stinging menace.
Yeah, it was pretty dumb, much like most of my Midwest Memories.
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