Sunday, August 24, 2008

Mudhole Mischief

One of my favorite pastimes as a young child was washing my hair in mudholes. It seemed like every time I would get a chance and would see a mudhole, it was like a siren was beckoning me to come and partake. I don’t know what it was but it was certainly a pleasure that I just could not deny myself.

Inviting mudholes?

One time when we lived at Earl’s up Johnson Holler, mom had just dressed me up for a doctor’s appointment and we were getting ready to leave. Mom had forgot something in the kitchen so walked back inside to get it and left me standing in the doorway and told me to wait on her. Well wouldn’t you know it, down in the middle of the road I spied a huge mudhole. Of course, I immediately took off down the hill towards the mudhole, mom later told of how she saw me going but I was tearing off that hill like greased lighting and that I was in the mudhole before she even cleared the front door! She said I ran right into the middle of it and sat down, and splashed handfuls of water up on my head and that I was filthy. Mom said it made her a little mad to see me in the mudhole, considering she would have to haul water up the hill from the creek, heat the water on the stove, and then bathe me all over again. But, the anger passed when she remembered that I was just a little boy, and after all, boys will be boys.

Me and Jason at the fish hatchery. I was this age in this story.

Though aggravated, mom soon saw the humor in it and she just walked down to me in the driveway mudhole, and said “What are you doing?” To this I looked up at her innocently and said “Mud-hooooel” and dowsed my head down in the muddy water. Mom said I was a heckuva looking thing when I pulled my newly “washed” head up out of the mudhole and the rivulets of thick brown mud ran down my cheeks. She later told that my hair was matted fast to my head and that I was grinning from ear to ear.

Dad, Mom, Jason and I in the doorway of Earl's.

She said there was nothing else she could do but just give me another bath so she grabbed the water bucket and headed to the creek to get more water to bathe me in. As I recall, we still made it to the doctor’s appointment on time, since Mom always left hours early since she knew how Jason and I were to get into mischief. As with this time, we usually didn’t disappoint her in her planning!


Shirley Stewart Burns, Ph.D. said...

This is one of my most favorite stories from your childhood. I can just imagine you dunking your heard and calling, "mud-hoooole!"

tipper said...

You were a little rat!! I let my girls play in mud holes when they were little-and Granny would have a fit when she found out-you know they could catch their death of a cold.