‘Tis the Season…for WHAT?!?

Tis the season…for Muck Boots??? Yes, it is October, which can only mean one thing in these southern swamps…hunting season is upon us. This is usually about the time I start hearing the test fires off in the distance as every hunter in our little Swampville is diligently sighting in their scopes and carefully stocking their ammo. For most men they’re probably dusting off their treasured Muck boots to make sure they are ready for any terrain that may await them. I did say most men though, not my husband.

My gorgeous husband treasures few things more than his Muck boots. In his eyes that tacky…I mean practical camo print, can go with anything because you just never know what will happen in life. Surprising his wife with lunch at school randomly, Muck boots are certainly needed for this occasion. I mean what would happen if there was a sudden mudslide in our flat coastal area? Or you know what else could be a possibility? We could be driving along our way to eat at my favorite seafood restaurant in our highly populated tourist town and break down with no one around for the next 200 inches in bumper to bumper traffic. A real man would have to be prepared for such an travesty, right?

Needless to say, my husband wears his Muck boots everywhere like a little boy in his favorite cowboy boots. I may at times, but of course never too often, nag the living snot out of him about wearing those dang boots everywhere. I mean seriously, why do you need to wear your Muck Boots to the mall? Or to your mom’s for dinner? How about not wearing them to the strawberry field so I can get a decent family picture? Oh wait, that last one may have bit me in the tush. Yes ma’am, I did it. I had to say those awful words that taste like vinegar coming out of any know-it-all’s mouth.

We pulled up to our favorite strawberry field and it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and it was so warm outside that I could feel the beach calling my name. Still bitter about my husband wearing those dang boots, I couldn’t help but utter just one more time how ridiculous he looked in those Muck boots. I however, was wearing a cute little red top and the most adorable sparkly sandals that showed off my new pedicure. We walked to the entrance and grabbed our buckets. As soon as we set foot in the field I realized that in my infinite wisdom I had forgotten one very important thing. Prior to the day we were there it had rained for a straight week! As soon as I stepped into my row, my freshly pedicured toes sunk right into that dang mud! As I looked up all I could see was my husband bent over laughing hysterically at me as he so graciously reminded me how smart I was.

We finished picking strawberries and we had plenty to pick from thanks to that rain I had forgotten about. We still ended up taking a cute family picture, but I made sure my muddy toes were well hidden. To this day my husband will not let me live this down. Every time I cringe when he puts on his Muck boots, he kindly reminds me about that ONE time I was wrong. I’m only admitting to that one time ever. He will never ever get me to say, “You were right,” again. That is one plate of crow I will never forget, especially since in our vows it says, “till death do us part,” which is probably how long my husband will be telling this story.