I had to think of something fast so, under duress, I made a bet with our preacher last November 1st, right after he killed his sixth deer to my nary a one. I bet my stand against his I could lose 20 pounds before Christmas. I’ll say this for the man, he drives a hard bargain. Sensing my desperation, with a sly smile he upped it to 40 pounds and if I win we swap places with deer stands but if I lose he gets to keep the hot spot all season. In my distress, I agreed.
I starved myself and lost so much weight so fast I was wearing my son’s clothes and they fit just right. I’d already told his Momma to buy him some more clothes for Christmas and we could just share jeans and thereby save money. My son wasn’t too keen on this idea but I reassured him that since I do the washing I would keep fresh washed jeans available. Skeeter doesn’t have to worry about me wanting to share his underwear, though. His drawers are the only thing I have ever seen that will make Clorox curdle.
I was only two pounds shy of yanking this hot hunting spot from under the preacher when he pulled a Mata Hari on me. He put his sweet wife (she has to be special to put up with him) up to making me a birthday cake, November 26th, of whole wheat flour, brown sugar, raisins and nuts. I know he put her up to it because I confided in him just three days prior my weakness for bread with raisins and nuts in it and how hard it has been to give it up since I made this bet. Jackleg preacher! The gall of the man to use my weakness against me and involve this good woman in his devious plan! It just goes to show the level to which some people will stoop in order to hold on to a good hunting spot.
Unfortunately for me, his plan worked. The cake was so good I asked for the recipe and made myself four of them. I added double raisins and nuts, and for good measure, a handful of cocoanut and some bananas and ate this manna morning, noon, and night until I deliciously gained 7 pounds.
I awakened to his plot to fatten me up this morning when I tried to button my purloined jeans and could not. The meaning of the phrase “he swallowed it hook, line, and sinker” hit me like a lightning bolt. What a fool I am! Durn his time! I can hear him laughing all the way to his deer stand! Woe be unto you, preacher! Once I was blind but now I see!
You may denote a tone of humility in me and you would be right to so do. I have leased my chicken operation, pulled my fences a little closer in, made them tighter and have determined to live out the rest of my days doing what I like best; growing a garden, loving little children, dispensing sage advice to all that ask for it, reading the Scriptures more and trying to keep from loosening the dadblamed rusted bolts holding the support brackets on that jackleg preacher’s deer stand just enough so it will look like a tragic accident!