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“How many did you get?” I asked Amanda as I picked the pebbles off my foot.
“Six. How many did you get?” She replied.
“Only three,” I told her, shoulders slumping as I reclined on the edge of the huge truck tire in our front yard while she plucked the rocks from her skin.
“I win! You want to go again?”
Mum was not home, and Dad was in charge. I don’t remember where exactly he was during our adventure, nor how old Amanda and I were at the time.
All afternoon, we darted back and forth across the freshly tarred dirt road in front of our trailer.
Laughing and cavorting, we tried to gather as many rocks as we could on our tarred feet.
Over and over, we dashed from the tire to the ditch and back, each time adding a new layer of warm, sticky tar to the skin of our feet and new gravel between our toes.
It was a game, and it was wonderful.
Until Dad found us and scrubbed the tar off our feet. That wasn’t so pleasant.
The fourth assignment for Mommy’s Piggy Tales is second grade.
© 2010 – 2012, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.
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{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
Yes I do. And Dad got in trouble for not watching up better when Mum got home because he was still scrubbing when she arrived.
Yes! I remembered that part, too, but I left it off on Dad’s account.
This is soooo funny and totally reminds me of playing in the fresh sand that was on our street–on top of the fresh tar! And that happened like in 1948! It’s a lesson you only need to learn once. Thanks for the memory
Karen visiting from Group 3
Wow, you must have had really tough feet to run across the tar & chips like that! I can see why it made such a big impression on you – pun intended. lol
Beth from Group 3
Ouch! That would hurt to have it scrubbed off. What a fun memory!