Where would I keep baby cows?

 
 
But I don’t want to be a cow farmer.

All of us teen boys and girls just walked in to Mr. McIntire’s ninth grade science class and took our seats.  Before he took role Mr. Byerman, the audio visual movie operator and math instructor opened the room door and came and asked all boys to follow him upstairs to the AV room to watch an important movie.  I’m pretty sure this was planned by Mr. McIntyre and Mr. Byerman.  So all of us boys got up and followed the tall redhead math teacher as he instructed.

“But why aren’t the girls coming too”  “Just follow me and walk quietly so we won’t bother the other classes in their classrooms,” Byerman snapped.

So we made our way upstairs to the dimly lit A/V room, grabbed a chair, sat down, and clickity-click went the Bell and Howell projector.  On the large roll-up screen shown cows grazing in a field.  Then a bull entered the picture and proceeded to stand on his Hine legs behind another cow.  “What is he doing” I whispered to a class mate.

He responded, “That‘s how they make cow children.

I whispered back, “does Mr. Byerman expect us to become cow farmers.”

“No dummy.  Just watch,” my friend whispered back.

But very worried, I mentioned, “But our backyard is too small for a cow family.”

“Just shut-up” my movie mate barked through his teeth.

But I don’t understand I thought to myself.  What are they telling us?  I knew sometime in the past they taught agriculture at this junior high but this is ridiculous.  What would I feed a family of cows?  Aren’t they messy and poop a lot? 

Then the film projector stopped and Mr. Byerman said walk quietly downstairs and wait for your next class.  Fade to black.

Published by Charles Oldenfatt the Curmudgeon

If I told you the truth about myself you would think what a wad of chewed gum stuck under a church pew I am. Dull. Ordinary .old and fat

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