Hornets

Summer’s day, dad instructed his son’s cut down the weeds that stood three feet in height along the canal. The weeds had covered the area where the chickens would scratch for feet.

Buck, being the oldest, suggested to his brothers we had better wear our blue jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Put on your boots, because though weeds have thistle and thorns.

Steve, next in age, suggested taking their hat’s it’s going to be hot today in the afternoon sun.

Harold, the youngest, said I want to use the hatchet.

Buck agreed. You can use your Boy Scout hatchet. Steve and I are going to use a corn knife.

Dad took the boys out to the weeds. Be careful of your brothers and don’t swing the hatchet and corn knives toward your brothers. Pick a spot and work your way to the canal. Stack the weeds in a pile by the trash, burning barrels. Once they dry out, we will burn them.

Whacking weeds and stacking them for about an hour, then Brother Steve yells, “Hornets, Ground Hornets!” Harold fights the hornets standing his ground, dropping his hatchet. Steve drops the corn knife as he swats at the Hornets, to no avail.

Buck looks up and sees his brothers in trouble and drops his corn knife and grabs both of his brothers, one under each arm and dives into the canal.

Buck instructs his brothers to swim underwater to get away from the mad hornets. Once they reach safety downstream. Buck takes them back to the house where they undress. Both his brothers stung nearly twenty times, and Buck did not get stung once.

As the boys took off their clothes, they would find that hornets were in their clothing. Dumping out their boots were hitch-hiking hornets, which met their doom with a boot of the oldest son.