Sometimes I look at things my family and I do and wonder why I don’t hear banjo music.
Not in a crazy ‘I hear voices’ type way, but like maybe that’s becoming my theme music.
I never heard it more clearly then last weekend:
We loaded up the four wheeler…… then strapped the girl’s mini ride on top.
I felt like a hick.
Next thing you know, it will be grandma up there.
Sorry in advance grandma.
And now the attire.
Nothing induces banjo music like wearing last years sweatpants and snow boots.
At the same time.
Well its beyond a stick with a handkerchief tied to the end.
And the music stops there.
Because I think it actually takes effort to be hickish and I was plum wore out.
P.S.: If I ever try and name my hypothetical future child Jim-Bob, Billy-Bob, or anything with a -Bob. Please stop me. Thank you.
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