the mud puddle

So, I've been telling you my stories, but here's one from the husband. He wrote it out last night for me to put on this blog. So, without further ado, I introduce to you my husband:

Growing up on 5 acres with horses, pastures and barns was a lot of fun for my brothers and I.  But not so much fun for my mother. 

For example, when I was about 5, my older brother discovered an exciting game.  My younger brother and I followed him as he climbed the wood fence by the barn, then climbed up on the sloping barn roof, which was about 8 ft off the ground.  Then we would jump off the roof into a huge, deep mud puddle.  After about a half hour, we went back to the house, covered in "mud".

We walked into the house, tracking mud, to get changed.  There were a few things we didn't understand at that age though.  For example, the "mud puddle" was just outside the horse stalls and dirt was not the main ingredient.  Nor was the liquid primarily water. And we had become accustomed to the strange stench we were giving off. 

So, my mother had the experience of having three clean little boys go out to play, only to come back into her house covered in horse manure and urine, stinking to high heaven.  That was the end of that game, but we soon found other exciting games to play.  But that's another story...