Exploding Cow Pies

We expect playful pranks from boys in their early teens because they delight in stretching the boundaries. Firecrackers offer many exciting possibilities to a creative thirteen year old.

My son, Joseph, along with a neighbour wondered what would happen if they lit a couple of fire crackers and threw them into the family’s country-style mailbox. The result was even funnier than they imagined as the metal door flew up and slammed shut again with a loud clang. Joseph and Riley doubled over with hoots of laughter.

Unfortunately for the boys, who should drive by at that exact moment?

The principal from the local public high school.

The boys noticed a car had stopped. They hopped on their bikes in a frenzy, rode down the long, curved, lane way to Riley’s house and lunged through the front door. However, that did not curtail this conscientious educator; he backed up his station waggon, followed the boys up to the house and rang the door bell. The principle’s stern lecture mortified Riley’s mum and embarrassed the boys. Joseph sheepishly recounted his adventure at the dinner table that night and we just shook our heads.

That incident was never repeated but firecrackers in the hands of one father led to sheer mayhem at our house a few years later.

We were barbecuing with a few other families. In the late afternoon, when the kids were getting restless and hungry, Pierre gathered the kids together, like he often did but this time he led them into the barnyard.

What did this fun-loving father do to amuse the throng of children who surrounded him?

Why he lit firecrackers and placed them in the middle of manure plops! We all heard the squeals and roars of approval from the kids. Before we knew what was happening, Pierre was paying the kids who dared to stand the closest to the smelly, disgusting explosions.We all shook our heads this time but smiled in spite of ourselves, wondering who was more mischievous, Pierre or the kids?

That was before we saw the kids close up. They were splattered with manure. Actually the foul-smelling gunk that covered them wasn’t even manure yet, it was fresh. The other mother’s and I were desperate to bathe our kids before dinner but we simply rinsed out their hair, gave quick sponge baths and I scrambled to find clothes to fit everyone. Rhonda, Pierre’s wife, fumed the loudest about stained clothing and Pierre looking sheepish, helped clean up his four small children.

I must admit that no one has forgotten The Day Cow Pies Exploded. My grown children still laugh in remembrance. I suppose that day is another example of the freedom, joy and muck that a farm makes available to all playful kids, both short and very tall.

Buried Alive in Laundry, Socks and Shoes

Credit: His and Hers
Try keeping track of shoes for 11 people

In a family of eleven, everything is a big deal.

Want a laugh today? Come take a peek into our house a few years ago.

Imagine twenty-two pieces of bread lined up in two rows on the table. Each sandwich is made with a particular person in mind because I did want them to actually eat the sandwiches at school and work. Even peanut butter sandwiches were complicated because some were made with jam or not, with thick or thin peanut butter, with butter under the peanut butter or not. A component of this chore was often a survey of the crew to see who wanted what in their lunch.

If that procedure wasn't daunting enough, I had to make sure that everyone had clean clothes and shoes to wear the next day. There were indoor and outdoor school shoes, decent runners and play runners, rain, barn and winter boots, skates, both play and good sandals, slippers, shoes to wear with dresses and dress shoe for the boys. This abbreviated list adds up to about TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FOUR shoes with the potential to get lost, wet, dirty or become too small.

Of course it was an especially big deal when the seasons changed because we had to sort and put away the shoes that weren't needed for a couple of moths and decide which shoes could be passed down or were still big enough for the current owner.

I can still hear Claire yelling, as she organized the shoes,

"Daniel, you really don't want to keep these, do you?"

Daniel would protest,

"But Claire, they're so comfortable. I like them."

His big sister would retort,

"Fine, but if they get any worse looking, I am throwing them out."

Sock were even a bigger nightmare because the only thing that will kill you as a mother of a large family is pairing socks. Although I used the toss and throw method of pairing, some mornings found us frantically searching for some appearance of a pair in my gigantic basket of unpaired socks. At times I had to literally toss the newly discovered pair over the upstairs railing. One of my kids, who already had their coat and school bag on their back, would catch them in mid-air. They quickly pulled on their socks, stuffed their feet into boots or shoes and flew out the door, barely making the school bus.

Then there was laundry, sometimes three or four loads a day because I used cloth diapers and had barn clothes to wash on top of regular clothes. I hung out at least two loads on the outside clothesline every day. Because a gulley and pasture were on that side of the house, this line was visible from the road. Unbeknownst to me, my laundry was a subject of great interest and of subsequent conversation.

" Oh my God, look at all that laundry."

" There are two different loads on the line now"

"I have never seen that line empty"

"Stop the car, I simply must take a picture of the horse and pony with the laundry line in the background"

"This is hilarious; there is every size and style of clothing on that one line"

I sometimes I held folding marathons where I literally tossed each kid their clothes and we all folded together. Other days, I simply put a basket of clean, unfolded clothes in a basket in each room.

Yep life was messy and everything was a big deal but it was awfully funny because simple chores in a family of four became massive, logistic battles in a family of eleven, battles that often went horribly wrong. Case in point, bleach spotted coloured load and makeup or gum left in a pocket, staining all the clothes in the dryer. My personal favorite disaster was that load of mostly men's white shirts that turned pink,not a subtle pink but a shockingly bright pink. I still hear about that one!!