Comedy, by Ken Bradbury, 1997
Farm girl shares some humorous social embarrassments of being on a farm, and some of the joy of love and support by her father.
Duration8 - 10 minutes
- 1 Female
Product Id: #111
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An excerpt …
(My father, the farmer.)
I’m not kidding! He hatched the plot the day I was born. Really! This is not just a speech! This is the honest-to-gosh truth! And how is he doing this? ‘My father is trying to establish that me being a farm girl surpasses all other human endeavors.”
OK, for those of you who don’t know anything about farming, let me set a few things straight. We don’t ride to school on a mule, we don’t sleep with the chickens, and (sarcastically) even some of us have indoor plumbing.
(It’s always fun when girls talk.)
Tell me,” says Katie. “Do you guys like Pantene Pro V shampoo or do you prefer Herbal Essence?”
“Who cares? They’re all the same,” answers Callie. “As long as I have my Maurice’s nail polish, I’m ready for anything!”
Then they turn to me. “What about you, __________? Don’t you have anything to say?”
Again, my mouth drops open. I begin to sweat. I mean, I’ve got to at least talk like a girl, even if my dad doesn’t believe I am one. Frantically, I search my mind for an intelligent comment, then the words blurt out of my mouth: “Did you know that if you use enough Furadan Insecticide you can increase your corn yield by over twenty percent?”
(But … when you stop and thin about it.)
And I’ve got to admit that sometimes I exaggerate a little about the way he wants to make me into a cowgirl. I know that his only desire is for me to be happy. I once told him that I’d like to go into communications some day and he said, “Sound great. There’s lots to tell about cow and chickens!”
Well ... I hope he’s just joking. But I wouldn’t trade the things I’ve learned from my dad for anything.
And seriously, Mrs. Hayes. If you ever want a lifetime supply of eggs and fried chicken ... just see me.
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