one of the Tater Babes, was on her way to Havana (Illinois, over by the Illinois River, not Cuba, cause you can’t drive
to Cuba) and was just driving along, minding her own business, one fine Saturday morning. She was going to a family reunion
of sorts, which also included the other folks who had cabins on the river, who aren’t necessarily family, but close
enough to share a dish. In this case, Cous Cous.
That’s what she had with her, CousCous, I kid you not. Now why would a Tater Babe take Cous Cous to
a down home potluck? Well, she said it was to impress the Master River Chef that was gonna be there.
Maybe. And what exactly is a Master River Chef???
And I’m still a bit suspicious about that there Cous Cous, but whatever.
Well, FeeFee was singing along to the radio, like she always
does - probably to Donna Summer, FeeFee sure does like her Donna Summer - she also knows all the words ‘The Brady Bunch’
and maybe ‘Gilligan’s Island’, except she forgets a couple lines and has to hum them - anyway, I digress.
This here story is about the Goat. Now
how many people you know is driving along the highway and sees a goat running down the road? (I once saw a pig, which my exhusband
accidently ran over. He picked the pig up - it was dead - and put it in the trunk on account of it was our landlord’s
pig and we felt kinda bad about the whole thing. We drove the dead pig to the landlord’s house and told him, and he
said he didn’t want the pig anymore, we could have it. Now, that was kind of weird, but we took it to Lloyd so he could
butcher it. Ate it, too, but then that was back before I was a vegetarian….now that I think about it, maybe that’s
WHY I’m a vegatarian…)
it, I digress again. This is about the GOAT.
FeeFee sees this here goat running down the middle of the road, so she stops. ‘What was I supposed to do?’
she asked me. ‘Ignore it? Ignore those little goat feet, and little goat ears, and little goat beard? It was kinda cute
and I didn’t want it to get run over, so I stopped. But the little bastard wouldn’t come to me. I’m out
there on the road, chasing this damned goat all over, calling to it - I mean, really, what do you call a goat? Here, boy,
here boy? What if it was a little girl goat and she didn’t like being called boy?’
You got to understand, FeeFee is ALL girl. She would take real offense if someone said to her
‘Here, boy’, and she didn’t want to offend the goat. If it was a girl. If it was a boy, she wouldn’t
care. Course, it’s hard to offend a guy, if you’re offering up your hand.
So she’s chasing this goat around and some other folks stop. They get out and say, ‘Lady,
is that your goat? Cause is shouldn’t be running around in the road, that’s dangerous.’
FeeFee gets all puffed up when she tells this part. She said, “I beg your pardon? That
is NOT my goat!! Why do you think I would even HAVE a goat? Do I LOOK like I’d have a goat? What do you even mean by
In the meantime, more folks stop. Lots
of traffic stopped, a whole line, and some people are just downright rude. They are honkin’ and use the f word and giving
FeeFee the finger. I want to say right here that if you give FeeFee the finger, you are just asking for trouble.
FeeFee was about ready to go pound someone when a pickup
truck pulled up with a woman and a big dog. The woman just hands FeeFee a leash and then keeps on driving. So now, FeeFee
has a leash but she still hasn’t caught the goat. Neither has anyone else, so she doesn’t feel too bad about it,
and she sure doesn’t care about those rude SOBs who are stuck in a line of cars.
The goat is scared shitless by now. Have you ever seen a goat panic? According to FeeFee, it
ain’t pretty. Them little goat eyes crossed and he started to charge anything that got near him. The lady with the big
dog came back but the dog didn’t help anything.
Long story short, FeeFee said they had to tackle that there goat and since no one knew whose goat it was,
she just put it in the back seat until they figured it out.
When she finally got to the reunion, everyone wanted to know where her fancy CousCous was and she
had to tell them that the Goat ate it. And loved it.
I swear, this is true.
A Tater Babe never lies.