Letters From The Barn: S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G Bee

Letters From The Barn: S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G Bee

I went to a spelling bee the other night. Okay, tried to go to one. Okay, drove around in circles for an hour and got there just as everyone was walking down the stairs.

But, I did make it for the ice cream and conversation, which as any good speller knows, is the most important part of any spelling bee. I had p-e-p-p-e-r-m-i-n-t ice cream. In a c-u-p not a c-o-n-e. And it was quite r-e-f-r-e-s-h-i-n-g.

That being said, I also had m-a-c-c-a-r-o-n-i salad at one of the places I stopped on the way when I was l-o-s-t. While driving, it was f-o-g-g-y. Which did not help my t-a-r-d-i-n-e-s-s.

When I  got there, I found out my team did not w-i-n. Now, was this b-a-d news or g-o-o-d? Would we have done w-o-r-s-e had I been on time or b-e-t-t-e-r? Only my chickens know.

Tomorrow, I promise to teach them to cluck their way through the alphabet. And the dogs, to drive the truck. And, the rabbits to tell time. And the goats, to fill up with gas.

With all that help, I m-i-g-h-t just be on t-i-m-e next year. But, maybe you should go on ahead and sign up your own team first. Don't w-a-i-t for me. Those goats'll never remember to fill up the truck before hand. I know how they a-r-e!

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Author: Meriwether O' Connor