My friend Larry had knee replacement surgery almost two weeks ago. He shuttered his one man feed store while he recuperates. His son came up on Thursday and Friday to help and he called me on Friday to help him grind and deliver a load of feed on Saturday. I was happy to help and told him to call me whenever he needed it. Until he strengthens his knee some more it just isn't wise for him to be throwing around fifty and hundred pound bags of feed.
Larry has thigh high compression socks that look like a really thick, bleach white nylon hose to help with his blood circulation. Since pants are a bit difficult to put on at this point, he's been wearing his shorts and flashing his nylons about. The lady we delivered the feed to has four very friendly and inquisitive dogs running around the cows and their respective cow patties. While we were trying to get lined up to the feed bin with the auger, the dogs run over to Larry and he says just as straight as can be, "Don't nip my nylons." Sitting at the wheel I fell over laughing. It was something about the comment and the mix of where we were and Larry saying it that just cracked me up to no end.
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