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Summertime's nothing to snipe at

T. Gamble

T. Gamble

This past week at church the younger children sang a few songs at the 11 o'clock service. On this particular occasion, the kids met about an hour before service and practiced the songs they would sing. There had been no practice previously, so they had to learn the songs that morning prior to singing.

So, there I sat in the church pew with the little 7-year-old hurricane boy and the 8-year-old princess. At the appointed time, the choir leader asked that all the children who planned on singing to come down to perform the songs. The 7-year-old hurricane pulled my head down and whispered in my ear -- at about the volume of a freight train, given that he learned to whisper in a saw mill -- "I don't know the songs, daddy, I'm just going to stay here."

I responded by telling him that I was sure he did know the songs well enough and to go on down there and sing them.

He replied, "No, daddy, I really don't know the words. I'll just go down there and lip-sync them."

And, after watching his performance, I can say he has a bright future as a lip-syncher.

I guess he can be forgiven for not knowing all the words, given that school has just let out. He and the little princess are beside themselves as summer vacation begins. Oh, how I long for the days when I could swim all day, my fingers would turn old and wrinkly looking and my toes would bleed from gripping the bottom of the pool all day long.

There is no sleep on earth like that gained after an entire day of swimming in the summertime. The kids love to swim, but at the same time modern technology has brought all the games they play, TV, etc., which means I must work hard to make sure they spend enough time enjoying what matters rather than playing video games. This is especially tough concerning the little hurricane because he loves to play any army game which involves killing zombies, monsters or evil beings of any type.

That's why I've enrolled both of them in three Bible schools this summer and, if I can fit it in, I may send hurricane to a monastery for a week.

When I was a kid, I went to all types of Bible schools, summer programs with the church and schools, etc. It was at one of these type programs that I was first introduced to snipe hunting. If you have not gone snipe hunting, you really should. Snipe hunting generally consists of at least one adult who shepherds several young children into a dark field in the middle of the night under the guise that they will be left with a croaker sack to be used to catch a snipe, which is usually described as a bird similar to a roadrunner, that will be running down a trail through the field directly into the croaker sack.

I was about 9 years old when Mr. Lewis Rickerson, the head of a group known as the RA's, left me on a snipe trail in the middle of the night. I was certain I would bring home the biggest and best snipe. I was also certain I was scared to death being left in the middle of a field in the middle of the night. I'm also fairly certain my momma did not know that Lewis Rickerson had left me in the middle of the field in the middle of the night, scared to death.

Of course, he really wasn't very far away because after leaving me in the field for a few minutes, he and a couple of older boys came running up behind me hooping and hollering which led to a world record 100 yard dash by me, which unfortunately was not timed, as I hightailed it out of the dark field onto a dark dirt road.

To this day, I haven't caught a snipe, but maybe this summer the hurricane and princess will corral one up.


Contact columnist T. Gamble at tcollier@gamble.com.

Comments

waltspecht 2 years, 7 months ago

First time my Cousin and I camped out for the night, the older boys on the farm decided they were going to scare us. Well, things didn't work out that way. Rex, my Uncle's German Shepard had been told to stay with us by my Uncle. We are talking a full bore attack dog here. He had to leave New Jersey when he got into a dispute with a burgler in Schwatrz's Machine Shop. The older boys snuck in around midnight and Rex woke us up with his growling. Bobby yelled Fass On, and Rex took after them. They headed in every direction in the dark, and ran into things. As Rex would catch up with each he would recognize their scent and figure he had another friend down, and took off after the next one. Fortunately he recognized all of them and no one got bit. When the guys complained to Uncle Karl about us setting the dog on them, he simply said what did you expect Rex to do? He had been told to protect us and he did. Funny, they never tried anything like that again. You just gotta love a good dog.

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