As I mentioned the other day, (post: Dads) I grew up with Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson, George Jones and Patsy Cline. Tammy Wynette and Loretta Lynn sang about worlds and experiences I could not fathom. Mickey Gilley or Garth Brooks can inspire a counter dance.
Even though he dresses like GQ, I married a cowboy. He's not afraid to be a little rough around the edges. He's good at it. Occasionally, he ropes me in.
I'm not quite a cowgirl but I own the boots. They've seen some dance floors and tabletops. If you run into me in Texas or Arizona, I will be doing my best cowgirl impression.
The baby is almost grown. I watch him with an inquisitive eye and it's all I can do to keep from taking notes.
The daughter lives in Texas. Cowboys abound. Her relationship is sound but a few cowboys do help with the scenery. She lives very close to Willie Nelson. Coincidence? I think not.
The baby does not have the experience of being a cowboy. But he has a sister who lives in Texas and a father who embodies some cowboy characters. He's subjected to country music every time I am in control.
The song says, "Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys." The baby will become a lawyer or an engineer or some other professional. I will watch with pride. I will also hope he takes after his dad and has a little bit of cowboy in him.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys
Labels:
boots,
country music,
cowboys,
The Baby,
the daughter,
the husband
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2 comments:
I love that song! I still have the 45! I could not part with it.
You know the song goes..."Mama's don't let you babies grow up to be cowboys, Let them be Doctors and Lawyers and such"...coincidence???
A little cowboy/girl in each of us is a good thing...I think.
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