One of my earliest memories as a young boy on the farm was an incident from when I was about 9 years old. It sticks out because it happened the first time I was left with the responsibility of looking after the whole farm alone while the rest of the family was away for the afternoon. Overall there was nothing around the farm I couldn't handle. After all, I have been on the farm my whole life. There was nothing on the property I could not confidently drive. I knew where all the tools were and how to use most of them. I regularly handled all the animals and helped with many emergencies, including putting out a horrible fire once and cleaning up after a major flood in the barn. At the young age of 9, I was a very competent farm hand. However, I had never been home alone before. I mean, REALLY alone. My grandparents were gone on a trip, my older brother was off to work, and Mom and Dad went to town to spend the day together.
There was indeed no one around at all.
I wasn't alone for more than an hour when I heard it. The familiar rumble of rotten exhaust on an old pickup truck of our neighbour about a mile over. Pulling the curtain back to look out the house's front window, I could see the dust cloud coming up the driveway from the approaching truck. Secretly I was happy to see him coming, and it helped calm the jitters that I had about being all alone. I went to the front porch and waited for him to pull up. A sizeable bearded man of few words approached the step I was sitting on. He nodded, flashed that familiar "how ya doing" smile, and asked if my Dad was home, and I shook my head no.
Disappointed, he asked if my older brother was there. Eager not to disappoint him again, I proudly told him he was gone for the day and that I was in charge. "Do you need a tool?" I said I know where everything is, and I can get it for you if you like?" His smile faded, and he turned serious. He replied that he needed to discuss something with my Dad. This was great news. I had a chance to show everyone how responsible and grown-up I could be. "I can take a message and give it to Dad as soon as he gets home," I said confidently.
"Well," our neighbour replied as he leaned in with a lowered, shaky voice, "I wanted to talk to your dad about your brother getting my daughter pregnant."
I had never heard that one before, but I was determined, and his request made some sense to me, so I confidently responded.
"I know Dad charges 500 bucks for the stud service on the bull, 300 for the stud horse and 150 for the ram ... but I have no idea what he would charge for my brother. I'll have to ask him and have him call you when he returns."
SERIOUSLY NOW!