Ma and Pa Hosegarden were on their way back home in their International pickup after selling their entire calf crop at the sale barn.
“Can you believe it Ma?” said Pa Hosegarden, grinning like he just won the three-legged race at the family reunion. “We sold those calves for $2,200 apiece! I feel like we robbed a bank, inherited a fortune from a long lost uncle, won the lottery or struck oil. You got the check don’t you Ma?”
“I sure do,” said Ma as she clutched her purse to her bosom in a death grip. “I wasn’t about to leave the auction barn without the money. I was afraid they’d say the clerk or the auctioneer made a mistake and they’d want their money back.”
“What do you think we should do with all that money, Ma? I was thinking it’s about time to buy a new pickup?”
“Are you outta your mind? This truck is a 1975 International pickup which is the last year they made ’em. It’s a classic. By the way, slow down you’re scaring me.”
“I’m only going 35 miles per hour which just so happens to be this relic’s top speed.”
“How much does a new truck cost these days anyway,” asked Ma.
“Well, the one I want would cost about $65,000.”
Ma Hosegarden nearly fainted. “Now I know you have the brain’s of a windshield defroster. That’s more than we paid for the ranch back in ’73! I’m telling you right now you aren’t getting a new pickup so get such crazy thoughts outta your head.”
They drove along in an awkward state of silence before Pa said, “Well, if I can’t have a new truck how about a new cow pony. I’m tired of being the laughingstock at every branding we go to just because I have a psychotic stud horse your brother pawned off on me. It’s downright embarrisin’.”
“How much would this new horse cost?” Ma asked.
“To get a good one these days, I mean one you can rope off of that doesn’t try to breed all the other horses while their owners are still riding them, it would cost around $25,000.”
Again Ma clutched her purse to her chest even more tightly and said, “TWENTY FIVE THOUSAND FOR A HORSE? You can stand a lot of embarrassment for that much money! Now I know you’re dumber than a brandin’ iron. What other impossible dreams are you havin’?”
“Well, if I can’t have a new truck or a new cow pony how about a new hydraulic squeeze chute with lead up alley and a tub?”
“Listen buster, the only new tub we’re gettin’ is a hot tub for my aching back I got from flanking calves and lifting heavy bales for 50 years.”
“Then how about we up our budget at bull sales?” asked Pa.
“Have you already forgotten how much we just got for our calves? I think we’re doing just fine breeding our cows to our own home-raised bull calves and buying our bulls out of the slaughter run.”
“But didn’t you see how much more money the better calves brought at the sale. Just once before I die I’d like to get our name in the weekly market report for having calves amongst the top sellers. Can’t we do anything to celebrate our good fortune today? How about we stop at that new steakhouse everyone is raving about and celebrate. I haven’t had a great steak that wasn’t out of one of our own cancer-eyed cows in forever.”
“You really think they’re going to let us in the door? Look at us. We look like we live under a bridge. Besides, you know we aren’t going to get out of that steakhouse without dropping a hundred bucks and you’re going to feel like a bad hangover tomorrow when you realize what you’ve done. No, instead we’ll celebrate like we always do. You need to pull over and get fuel anyway so I’ll treat you to a gas station sandwich, a bag of pork rinds and you can go next door to the 99 Cent Store and buy yourself a jug of tea.”
“Gee whiz. Thanks a lot. And tomorrow I think I’ll buy you a new padlock for your purse. I think the one you have is rusted shut.”
