It Was All Just An Exercise To Sneak In Some French

Oh, dear. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom may have committed a life-scarring faux pas this morning when having a hasty conversation with the #1 son.

I was rushing to town to give a tour of Mom's house, and I heard my phone make that little noise that means it wants attention, so I cautiously took a look, but rather than open an email proclaiming it contained pictures of The Pony from MBS, I instead took it upon myself to call the sender, #1. We had a conversation that covered college tuition, his scholarships, his new rental house, his food budget, furniture, MY PRINTER that he got me such a deal on, but now wants to take with him, and how I miss him being here, not the sandwich-making service he expects, but his humor.

"I know. I AM the only one that gets your warped sense of humor."

"That's right. Your dad has no sense of humor, and sometimes The Pony is just warped."

"Yeah."

"Still, he has his moments when he's kind of funny. Like that time he said, 'You need to get on your phone and send Dad a text: Nellie says hello.'"

"I don't get it."

"You know, that time he found Nellie's charred skull on the front porch when we got home."

"WHAT?"

"You know. After your dad put her out of her misery, but it took two shots, and then two more shots, and several hours, and then your oldest brother came out and helped him cremate her."

"Nellie's DEAD?"

"Oops. I thought you knew. Um. She was sick, and down behind the house, and couldn't get up to eat, and Dad just wanted to make it quick for her. And then he didn't tell The Pony, and the next morning I saw Ann with something in her mouth in the front yard, and told The Pony to go see if she had killed a chicken, and The Pony came back and said he didn't know what it was, but it looked like a hunk of meat, but it wasn't a chicken. Then sometime during the day Dad sent him a text and told him that Nellie died. And when we got home, he ran around to the front porch because he thought we got a package, but it was Nellie's charred skull. So he wanted me to tell Dad, 'Nellie says hello.' Which is kind of morbid and wrong, but it made me chuckle."

"I can't believe you guys."

"Sorry. I thought I told you. But don't worry. Your cat Genius really did die in his sleep, and Dad buried him in the yard next to Grizzly."

"I hope."

Oh, well. That boy doesn't come home enough. He's out of the loop. I really thought he knew. If he read my blogs like a devoted son, he would have known.

C'est la vie. C'est la mort.