|So, one day when Little brother Daryl was 5 and I was a shoulda-known-better 9, I wandered out to the big barn, Daryl tagging along right behind. Gramps had parked a hay wagon loaded with loose hay, right under the hay loft door, which was wide open.|
I climbed up the ladder to the loft inside the barn. Daryl just had to follow so I pulled him up. We went over to the open loft door and stood there looking around. Granny came out the back door of the house carrying a basket of wet laundry to be hung on the clothesline. Before I go on, I should further explain the lay of things. From the yard where granny was standing, she could only see the top part of the barn. The lower part was out of sight behind other sheds and bushes. She couldn't see the loaded hay wagon under the loft door.
Daryl was yelling 'hey gramma, look,' and waving both arms. Granny yelled back to get Daryl away from the edge, he'll fall and break something. So, I stepped back and gave him a shove on the butt with my foot.
Poor granny saw her precious little Daryl launched out the hay loft door, arms and legs flailing, and out of sight behind the sheds in the foreground. She dropped the basket of wet clothes and came running and screaming around the sheds. I swear, I never thought a fat old woman could run so fast. When granny saw Daryl standing on the load of hay laughing, she just collapsed on the ground in a sitting position, holding her heaving chest with both hands and panting for breath.
I panicked, jumped out of the loft, ran into the house to get help. Mom and little sister Angel got granny back into the house, set her in her chair and made her some tea. Then mom shoved me out of the house and told me to stay out of sight the rest of the day.
Daryl? Well, the more the womenfolk tried to protect him, the more that seemed to happen to him. He survived and is still going strong, however.
Submitted By: Hop from IA on 2008-10-10