I Wanted a Unicycle
Today’s unicycle post is gently recycled and … odd. Read on and see. Stay tuned at the end for the giveaway.
My middle child will be 19 at the end of the month. He’s the kind of boy who likes to master odd things. He’s in a pre-engineering program at the technical school, if that helps you to visualize. In fact, here’s a photo of my boy:
I got it in my head that he needs a unicycle for his birthday. It just seems like something he’ll appreciate. So I’ve been looking at new ones for awhile, knowing how much I’ll need to spend. Then our hot water heater broke. Right about the time I got paid.
*sigh*
So when pay day rolls around, I go to a unicycle site, then think, “Let’s look on Craigslist.”
And that’s when the story really picks up steam.
But There Were Dogs
I call the one guy who has a unicycle. Text him and ask if he has a dog. He has a Bull Terrier, Reba:
Get directions. Take my youngest, the chicken whisperer and partner in crime, to make sure I don’t buy a rusty, useless unicycle. Drive out to the middle of nowhere – beautiful back country in rolling hills, but still nowhere. Even the cows think so.
I pull into the long driveway and see a child, about three, in his underwear, staring at me from the front door. How cute! I think. Someone is potty training. We get out of the minivan and are met by the dad, who is shirtless. And covered in random tattoos.
About Tattoos
I have a theory about tattoos. Just a theory, since I have an aversion to needles and pain and will never willingly have one. I believe that tattoos should tell stories. They should be located in particular places on the body for good reasons, and as a whole they should tell stories. But then, I’m a story teller. And this guy’s tatts seem to be very random, with no rhyme or reason.
Not just tatts, though. He is sporting a gold nipple ring. And me, a perfect stranger. Staring at his nekkid chest.
So. When we pull in, we also see a chicken yard. I am distracted by the tattoos and nipple ring, yes, but not enough to forget the chickens. My ADD brain nearly explodes. And I don’t see the Bull Terrier! Only a cute Yorkshire Terrier, Frankie.
At this point, we’re surrounded by small neighbor children, Frankie, the Tattoo Man, and I are making our way to a shed, while I ask about the chickens. He opens the shed and pulls out a rusty unicycle:
It’s barely a blip on my radar, because there’s a Rubbermaid bin in the shed with a two day old duckling and a two day old chick. *SQUEEEE* I hand him cash and my boy takes the unicycle.
I really should have haggled. Or just walked to the chicken pen. It’s a vintage Loyd Unicycle, but the seat isn’t original, and it won’t really make a good starter uni. đ
Then I Heard Banjos
As we’re talking, and I’m handing the Tattoo Man too much money, the Yorkie comes to say hello. I give little Frankie my last Jones hoof, which he takes and disappears with, then turn to see the magnificent Reba. Woohoo! Reba is really why I drove out to the middle of nowhere.
Reba is bouncing all over the yard, generally being adorable, and I begin unwrapping the Jampacked Jawzer to give to her, while asking Tattoo Man if I can give it to her. He stops me and says, “I can’t let you give her food around the kids.” He nods to a neighbor kid, who holds up his arm in a cast. “Our male broke his arm and like to tore up his face.”
Alrighty then. I hand the Jampacked Jawzer to the Tattoo Man.I don’t ask what happened to the male. Â And I swear I hear banjos.
Chickens!
But there are still chickens! Lots and lots of chickens!
So we walk over to the chicken yard, the three year old running ahead and telling me all about the chickens (he is completely adorable), and they are truly beautiful. Beautiful. I ask if he sells any of the laying hens and he says yes. So I buy one. For a friend.
I’m calling her Bon Bon for now. She’s not feeling well. In fact, I may not give her to my friend, since I don’t want to infect her little flock. She’s currently in quarantine. In my bathroom.
I Should Have Haggled
I paid way too much money for this sick hen, too. Again with the googly eyes because I saw chickens. Live and learn. But I met Reba, a gorgeous Bull Terrier, which makes the trip totally worth it.
So that’s my story. I made it out alive. I brought home a rusty unicycle and a sick hen. And a great story that my boy and I will take turns telling for years to come. Thank you, Tattoo Man. You made my week.
Giveaway
We’ve gone through all of Jones Natural Chews treats in the last four years. They carry a large variety of all natural, almost entirely meat and bone treats, all grown and produced in the USA. So I’m just going to choose a random treat for giving away, a favorite, since I’m not ready to giveaway my “big” treat till next time. Hmm. Let’s giveaway the Pumpers, a whole baked pork heart. They’re great for all dogs! Click on the entry form below, and tweet daily to greatly increase your chances of winning!
Spreading the good chews …
Flea
