Well hay there, y’all! I am just in such a state of disbelief. Y’all know I love the South and all things Southern (except chitlins!) but I just have to share this. Even I could not make this up!
Jerry and I were watching the news this morning (at 4:45 am, since we FINALLY got Jenda to go to bed and we’re not forced to watch anymore Dora the Explorer! We LIVE for these moments!) Anyway, this little blurb came on the news about some young kids in South Carolina. Charleston, to be precise. Of course these well-mannered Southern tykes were out playing in their backyard, in the ‘burbs, and they unearthed a bomb.
Granted, I have been bombed in my backyard before, so I wasn’t sure I heard the news correctly. I had to turn it up. Sho ‘nuff. They found it actually in the woods just behind their house so they just dug it up and dragged it home. Okay, admittedly, for those of us with kids, we have all manner of crap dragged into our yards and homes: rocks, bugs, pieces of string, wine bottles (oh, wait, I think those are mine!) You know how it is. But a bomb?
Okay, first of all, how do you build a subdivision and NOT FIND A BOMB? I mean, c’mon. The damn thing had to be pretty close to the surface for a couple of kids to dig it up. Of course they got it home, and I am sure told their mother that it followed them home and could they keep it pretty please and they promised to clean up after it.
Mom was interviewed by one of the newspapers… “"It did look like a missile to me but I didn't think it was anything to be concerned about because how often do you find a missile in your backyard?"
Am I missing something, like, her lobotomy scar? DUH!! One of her neighbors had the good sense to run like hell while dialing 911 on his cell phone… “Hey, police? My goofy neighbor kids just dragged an effing bomb home and they seem to be building a house for it and trying to paper train it. Yeah, can you send someone?”
I find it hard to fathom in this day and age that one, you can just find a bomb in the yard and two, that no one really seems concerned. Of course, the authorities were quick to point out that there was no real danger, it was just a “practice bomb.” Okay, why’n HAYULL y’all practicing in the suburbs? I would have a for sale sign in front of my house so fast it’d make your head spin. On second thought, better to put the sign up real slow, in case there’s any “practice landmines” lurking around near the petunias. Never hurts to be safe!
If I ever saw Jenda dragging a bomb around, well, I would make Jerry stay behind to get Jenda while I ran like hell calling homeland security or the DMV or the ASPCA or SOME-DAMN-BODY to get the thing out of here. Or just for ha ha’s, maybe I’d just call my neighbors, Cletus and Pootis to come get it. It’s almost Easter, they could paint it up like a pretty egg and use it in their latest holiday tableau.
“Hey look, Pootis, I found a bomb!”
“Whatchu say, let’s get bombed….hayuk yuk yuk!”
“No, lookit, a BOMB!! Ooh…let’s play war! I’ll be the allies and you be ‘Russia sucks!’”
I can tell y’all that it is getting warmer here, and soon it will be time for yard work, weeding, and spring planting. I can tell you that I will be planting my bee-hind in a lawn chair and working through a good novel with my friend Kendall Jackson. Digging in my yard? Not on your life!