I am currently at my mountain home and in the county of my mountain home is a rodeo. According to the rodeo announcer and the newspaper, this rodeo is the longest running night rodeo west of the Mississippi. How's that for recognition?
So, I took my two older kids to the rodeo for the first time last night. We were clear back by the calf-shoots, which doesn't add to the best rodeo experience, but it was OK. My kids were in some kind of shock-and-awe anyway, watching the calves get wrestled to the ground or get their hooves tied together. This was all a new experience for them.
We had a good time though and I quite enjoyed it. I recognized some people in the reserved section next to me (junior high teacher Cattani, my sister's family was at the top, couple of kids from my hometown). By the time the bull riding came around, we were ready to go home. However, the third to last bull had so much character, I just have to share. He was massive and white and seemed to be retarded. I am not saying that in a derogatory way either, I really think he was a special needs bull. That said, he had some mannerisms that were so like my second daughter, I couldn't believe it. He would walk away from the bull-catcher cowboys (all the while lassoing their ropes) and then suddenly do this sort of somersault thing and lay down as if he were dead or at least asleep. He did this over and over. My daughter does this exact thing. She'll get in trouble for something and immediately feign sleep (curl up in a ball).
Now, I am not saying my daughter is special needs or even close OK? She just has this temperament and these habits . . .
Even on the way back into the red gate, that bull-headed animal stuck his back leg out as if to say even his hind leg would refuse to do what he was suppose to do.
Now, you've met my daughter.
No comments:
Post a Comment