MY DADDY SLEEPS NAKED
"Late again!" the third-grade teacher sternly said to little Jimmy.
"It ain't my fault this time, Miss Russell. You can blame this 'un on my
Daddy. The reason I'm three hours late is my Daddy sleeps naked!"
Now, Miss Russell had taught grammar school for thirty-some-odd years.
Despite her mounting fears, she asked little Jimmy what he meant by
that.
Full of grins and mischief, and in the flower of his youth, little Jimmy
and trouble were old friends, but he always told her the truth.
"You see, Miss Russell, out at the farm we got this here low down fox.
The
last few nights, he done ate six hens. Last night, when Daddy heard a
noise
out in the chicken pen, he grabbed his double barreled shot gun and said
to
my Ma, "That fox is back again... I'm a gonna git him!'' "Stay back,"
Daddy
whispered to all us kids!
"My Daddy was naked as a jaybird -- no boots, no pants, no shirt! To the
hen house he crawled, just like an Injun on the snoop. Then, he stuck
that
double-barreled 12-gauge shot gun through the window of the coop. As he
stared into the darkness, with a fox on his mind, our old hound dog,
Rip,
had done gone and woke up and comes sneaking up behind Daddy. Then, as
we
all looked on, plumb helpless, old Rip done went and stuck his cold nose
in
my Daddy's crack!"
"Miss Russell, we all been cleanin' chickens since three o'clock this
mornin!"
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