The Native Iowan

It is late in the year 1980. Northern Iowa is cold, dry, not frozen yet. My teenaged brother and our young nephew are out in the back yard playing football.

My brother, I always called him The Rooster, is 16/17, our nephew, Andy, is 8, maybe 9.

Andy decided he wanted to take on both of us, him against the uncles. Andy has always been a tough, determined sorta kid.

So we are out in the yard, the midget vs 2big-guys. And the midget is trying hard. He’s picking the ball up and running straight into us. We let him break away, run a bit, then we’d trip him, pick him up and drill him, we are playing rough. We always play rough.

A song out on the airwaves at that time had a refrain, “another one bites the dust”… Bump, bump, bump, bump, another one bites the dust…

Rooster and I were laughing and joking and singing, “another one bites the dust”, each time young Andy got hit, slammed, banged, dropped.

Andy was getting mad. Crying a bit. Angry and frustrated. He kept coming on, and on. He is a determined sorta guy.

The ground is cold, we’re getting kinda dirty.

Andy, remember he’s just a little kid, has snot running down his top lip.

Rooster tells him to do a farmer nose blow… block one nostril and blow the slime out of the other one. Classic move the kid doesn’t know. So Rooster shows him.

The kid follows suit, blows and blows and blows until he has several inches of slime hanging from his nose, he’s bent over a bit, and unsure what comes next.

What now, the kid asks… Rooster says “shake your head…

Mom’s are great things. They always tend to arrive, show up, appear just as they are either really needed, or just when you’re doing things that will make them very angry..

Andy’s mom, our sister, walked out the back door just as Andy follows Rooster’s instructions and shakes his head.

The viscous thread of snot that was hanging from Andy’s nose wraps itself neatly around his head. I’m roaring with laughter, thinking I wont get in too much trouble, I didn’t do anything… why would I get in trouble…

Well hell… Our elder sister, Andy’s mother, was none too impressed.

Bump bump bump bump another one bites the dust….

Smiles

more later