I was shelling pecans early one morning when there came a news flash special report. I listened intently because I figured something important had happened somewhere in the world that would merit my attention.
“Tiger Woods had been in a serious accident,” the broadcast said.
Ken Vickers
Pistol Packing Mama
There was only a scarce mention of his wife at first but when I saw that Escalade with several windows broken out and a golf club sticking out the roof, I knew instinctively that all was not well in Tiger’s house.
Of course, in the ensuing days we all learned I was right and that Tiger was more of an alley cat than a tiger.
If only his wife were more like mine, Tiger would still be adored as perfect by the world, not have to give most of his money to lawyers and a mad, soon to be ex, wife and his Escalade wouldn’t be in the shop.
If his wife had bought a pistol with a big hole in the barrel and then set up a shooting range at their house and become proficient in the manly art of target shooting, Tiger would still be a model husband.
How do I know, you ask? Read on, Dear Hearts.
When I married my wife, Anne from Texas, we had the ceremony at my house out on the then open air deck. After the I do’s were over and the guests left, we were alone. My wife said, “Sit still while I go and slip into something new,” and I thought, “Oh, Boy. Let the Honeymoon begin right now.”
When she reappeared she was wearing the same attire with one exception; around her waist was a big pistol in a cowboy holster.
Anne from Texas had my attention because I had never seen that hog leg! She walked off the porch and sat a full can of Coke about 30 feet away and returned. She walked right up nose to nose and said, “If I ever catch you running around on me”, then she stepped back, drew the cannon, thumb cocked it, (to say she really had my attention now would be an understatement), pointed at the can of soda, fired and missed.
“Aha!” I yelled as I jumped up, happy she missed and mistakenly thinking this made me the winner.
When I laughed I saw fire blaze in her eyes and at the next shot the can literally disappeared in a cloud of foam. I mean disappeared. I don’t know where it went.
She twirled the cannon on her forefinger, dropped it neatly into the holster and stepped right back nose to nose and said, “Like I was saying; if I ever catch you running around on me I am not going to a lawyer, I’m coming to you.”
Anne from Texas ain’t never had any trouble out of me and as far as the honeymoon getting started right; I went in the kitchen, cooked supper and then washed the dishes.
Of course, in the ensuing days we all learned I was right and that Tiger was more of an alley cat than a tiger.
If only his wife were more like mine, Tiger would still be adored as perfect by the world, not have to give most of his money to lawyers and a mad, soon to be ex, wife and his Escalade wouldn’t be in the shop.
If his wife had bought a pistol with a big hole in the barrel and then set up a shooting range at their house and become proficient in the manly art of target shooting, Tiger would still be a model husband.
How do I know, you ask? Read on, Dear Hearts.
When I married my wife, Anne from Texas, we had the ceremony at my house out on the then open air deck. After the I do’s were over and the guests left, we were alone. My wife said, “Sit still while I go and slip into something new,” and I thought, “Oh, Boy. Let the Honeymoon begin right now.”
When she reappeared she was wearing the same attire with one exception; around her waist was a big pistol in a cowboy holster.
Anne from Texas had my attention because I had never seen that hog leg! She walked off the porch and sat a full can of Coke about 30 feet away and returned. She walked right up nose to nose and said, “If I ever catch you running around on me”, then she stepped back, drew the cannon, thumb cocked it, (to say she really had my attention now would be an understatement), pointed at the can of soda, fired and missed.
“Aha!” I yelled as I jumped up, happy she missed and mistakenly thinking this made me the winner.
When I laughed I saw fire blaze in her eyes and at the next shot the can literally disappeared in a cloud of foam. I mean disappeared. I don’t know where it went.
She twirled the cannon on her forefinger, dropped it neatly into the holster and stepped right back nose to nose and said, “Like I was saying; if I ever catch you running around on me I am not going to a lawyer, I’m coming to you.”
Anne from Texas ain’t never had any trouble out of me and as far as the honeymoon getting started right; I went in the kitchen, cooked supper and then washed the dishes.
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