It has been said that I may have a slight ornery streak. It has also been said that sometimes I have a streak of ornery about as wide as the Mogollon Rim is long. Well I think I am just having fun when no one else is. Since I've met this loving creature that insists on being my wife I've had to keep my orneriness put away in my top drawer were my socks and underwear are. I have been successful at keeping it there, mostly...
Beeeeeppp... beeepp... the metal detector sounded off and 1 more fork showed its self in the weeds then a quick scamper from a small something, and Bridger was on all fours following close behind. I picked up the rusty fork and put it on the rock with the other forks and spoons I had found.
Bridger made his way back with his hands cupped together and a huge grin on his cheeks. When he opened his hands to show me, the Horney toad ran up his arm. He got a case of the giggles and jumps when it continued down the back of his shirt.
"Dad, grab it dad" as he rolled around on the weeds and rocks.
The thing came out spitting red juice and hissing. Bridger finally calmed his laughter enough to tuck his shirt back in. all the commotion attracted brother Jordan, who came over the ridge with uncle Mike in tow and his metal detector bouncing along behind. I held the critter softly in my hands.
"Dad are you tickling Bridger again?" Jordan asked as he trotted up to us. "Nope" I told him as I bent down to show him the treasure in my hands.
"It was in my shirt running around" Bridger laughed.
"What did THAT feel like?" Jordan asked with eyes wide with enchantment. Therefore, I pulled his shirt collar out and dropped the toad in. we had us a rodeo.
Jordan took off hooping and hollering and jumping around as if he was on a stick horse.
Bridger watched him and his head bobbed up and down like your dogs head when he watches you swing a hammer. Then Bridger decided that he wanted to help his slightly older (they're ten months apart and it's not my fault) brother so he started with a jump, rounded the Pine tree and tackled Jordan into a old fire ring full of cold ashes
A cloud rose in a spiral, someone screamed, someone coughed, more ash became airborne, and we waited. Uncle Mike looked at me with one eyebrow curled up his forehead
"ya think we auta pickem up out a there".
"Nope" I retorted as I tried to see into the cloud.
Then like a Phoenix, young Bridger emerged from the ashes and covered from head to toe except for his grin. He stumbled from the ring with his arms extended and hands together. When he got to us, he opened his handful of ashes and as the ashes began to move and tiny horns exposed themselves, his smile grew. Then he said the words that made this fathers heart proud. "I caught lunch dad."
Jordan got some help from Uncle Mike, who dashed to extricate the seven-year-old boy only to slip on a rusty soupspoon, take a short flight, and land curled up in the fetal position right in the middle of the fire ring. Jordan escaped serious injury and after several vocals that I can only relate to a dog giving birth, Uncle Mike pushed to his knees, and then found his feet.
I wondered to myself "what could possibly make this story more riotous." I found my answer when Bridger handed me the ash toad and asked "Dad will you put him in your pocket and cook'em for lunch when we get home?" an image of my lovely however city raised wife shot through my consciousness and I said "sure Bud, I'll cook'em for lunch if your sure you want to eat him".
Uncle Mike and Jordan finally achieved ambulation just as I carefully put Bridger's lunch in my pocket. Jordan was trying to spit out ashes and Uncle Mike had a line of ash right down his middle. Ash caked on half of his head, neck, and face as well as one arm, one leg, and half of his torso. In the back, he had an ash crack.
"Your all riding in the bed of the truck." I chuckled as I gave a directive point toward the truck. As they all headed out, I carefully placed the Horny Toad under a bush and headed out myself.
Back at the house the boys made sure, I was still going to cook the critter for lunch then headed for the shower. Uncle Mike was washed up and clothes changed then appeared in the kitchen with an inquisitive eye.
"How are you going to cook the game?" he asked
"Sautéed" I responded as I carefully cut an Elk stake into the shape of a small Horny Toad. I tossed it into the frying pan and readied the rest of our lunch.
Their mouths watered when I dropped the cooked Horny Toad onto a plate in front of them and cut it in half, giving half to each child.
They never hesitated, not even a little. "GULP-GULP" and it was gone.
"Next time catch a bigger one Bridger" Jordan instructed his little brother as they turned on their grilled cheese sandwich.
After lunch, we all gathered on the couch to watch the Diamondbacks loose again. I gave the boys some lasting advice concerning their small game hunting adventures. Orneriness shot through my veins as I took them both by the hands and looked them in the eyes. "Now boys if I'm not home when you find a Horny Toad that you want to eat for lunch then you just bring it in and give it to Mom and she will clean it and cook it for you. Ok."
"Ok Dad we love you." as they bounced off on another adventure.
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