The Veteran is definitely his father's son. He even bears the same name: Farmer Hillbilly Jr. So it should have come as no surprise when more evidence reared its awkward head this afternoon.
Since it was bill-paying Friday, I treated my mom to a toddler cone from the custard stand. Of course I treated myself to a concrete. The Pony declined, stuffing his face with supper from Rally's. We go hog wild on bill-paying Friday, with delicacies not found in downtown Hillmomba.
As I was rounding the hairpin turn to the custard drive-thru, my cell phone started ringing. "Get it, Pony! You know I can't take a call now!" I could see the name 'Farmer' on the caller area. "He ALWAYS calls at the worst times!"
The Pony reached up to grab the phone. "Do you want to talk to him after I answer?"
"No. I can't. I'm kind of busy. We just talked to him a half-hour ago. See what he wants, and hang up."
The menu was asking for my order. I heard The Pony over my shoulder. "Fine. Uh huh. She can't talk. She's ordering frozen custard. Uh huh. Yeah. Okay."
I proceeded to the window. "What did he want?"
"That was The Veteran. He saw us pull in here as he was driving by."
Seriously. Who sees someone pull into a drive-thru custard shop, and immediately calls them? As if I wasn't getting ready to order. Or eat some frozen custard on a 90-degree day. What's up with that. It's like seeing a diver climbing up the 10-meter platform, then calling. Or a bullfighter stepping into the ring. Then calling.
Yes. The Veteran is definitely Farmer H's son.