In the summer of 1976, Mom and Pops were having a tough time. The entire valley had dried up. The crops were dying, and the bank was ready to forclose on the farm. Barely able to speak, I nonetheless muttered 'Oh Crap' when suddenly Dad got gout. With bankers looming, I had to do something. I had to bring in the crops. Mom cut down a pair of Dad's work overalls, and with my trusty Keds, I set out for 'Bertha' our main tractor to save the family. There was only one problem...how to reach the pedals?
7 comments:
BWAAAAHAHAHAA!! Awesome photo!
Is that really you? What a great picture!
Aren't you the cutest little farmer.
Thanks! Yes, really me. And yes, I really am badass.
First word you ever said was "tractor"...who knew how prophetic that would be... (motherly grin)
You're such a nerd, I bet the first word you said was actually "protractor."
Hummm...and that comment came from the largest highly irregular body in the solar system (a satellite of Saturn).
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