Unless I pay close attention I call barbwire, BOBwire- always have.
I think it is an innocent mistake.
Barbwire and I don't have a very good history.
When I was young-er my family had animals. . . and when I say animals I'm talking our own little miniature farm with cows, goats, and chickens. I was probably five years old (give or take a year) and I was outside with my childhood boyfriend, Tanner.
I loved Tanner- and yes I was going to marry him.
I would do almost anything to get his attention-
and I say that quite seriously.
Tanner on the other hand could have cared less!
I was showing him the cows. He grew up on a ranch so cows weren't impressing him too much-
So I decided to show him that I could feed the cows. . . WITH MY HANDS!
Ya, I'm your regular everyday cowgirl. . . even though I'm allergic to anything ANIMAL!
I stuck my hand through the barbwire fence, but the cow wasn't coming to get what I had to offer. . .I reached father- and father until eventually my whole upper body was in-between the barbwire fence. The cow had finally noticed me and started to get closer-
I swear to this day that the cow came running towards me. . .
but would a cow really do that?
I jerked my back, catching the back of my neck on a point of sharp metal wire.
I don't remember much, but I do remember bleeding - I remember Tanner went in and got my mom-
I remember going to preschool holding a wash cloth behind my head.
I think I should have gotten stitches, but I didn't I do however have a pretty intense two and a half inch scare on the back of my neck which I think is pretty cool. Just sayin'