..but the rooster made me do it, Mommy!

.......were the broken words I uttered right after I had slammed the camper door shut -with my little toe-head still outside! Tears and blood rolling down my cut and bruised face. Mommy, however, was having no sympathy for me at all! She knew there was a WHOLE lot more to this story!

I was around 3-4 and we were at my Grampa's farm. It was a nice day, I was outside just minding my own business - chasing those old cluckers! Now I had been warned not to do this - many times, but when you're a stubborn youngun' it's sometimes funner to do it anyway.

I had Gramma's pan that she'd use to feed those hens, so I could get really close to them. When they came up to 'eat' I would grab their tail feathers. It was fun, until the rooster came around the corner of the milking barn! Showdown! His feet twitching, my eyes narrowing! The race was on. Mommy and Dad had an old Ford pickup with a camper, I figured if I could make it to the pickup - I would be safe. That ol' devil rooster was right on my heels, and if that wasn't bad enough, he was making all kinds of noise to get Gramma's attention - which would also get...........(yikes)........Mommy's attention!!

I had made it to the pickup - started climbing up the tailgate to skidaddle into the camper, when there he was - red eyes flaming, black feathers rufflling - right behind me on the tailgate. Right behind me! Well, I started calling my number one hero - Grampa Ralph. He would save me, he wouldn't scold me, and he would protect me from the rooster - and Mommy, too.

That ol' rooste wasn't afraid of my calling Grampa, he wasn't afraid of anything! He was going for my bare feet! I pulled the camper door open, which knocked him off the tailgate. Ha! Take that! It only infuriated him more and up he flies!

"@#??#@$#, you nasty rooster!" I yell, as I hurry through the door, slamming it shut with great strength. Being hard headed is not always a bad thing, this time it allowed me to break through two panes of heavy glass and get only minor cuts, bruises and scrapes.

Thinking I had won this battle, and maybe even the war, I climbed onto the bed triumphantly. I was checking out the cool drops of blood on my dirty little hands -only to my horror I see Mommy looking through the side window at me!! She looked meaner' than the rooster! She'd seen me knock him off the tailgate, she'd heard me cuss, and she'd watched as I just broke out the window of our camper!

I did get a deserved spanking after she'd cleaned me up - Grampa tried to help me but Mommy would have none of it! That ol' rooster? Gramma said he was a good pappy and she wouldn't stew him like Grampa wanted! He didn't get into any trouble at all!