THE TRUE TALE OF THE FUKAWI INDIANS
Well, sit down with your favorite beverage while I tell you
a story. First, let me tell you to never act like you are smarter than you are
because it will bite you in the ass. BIG TIME. It also may make you wreck the
car if you are driving. Not good. Anyway, here we go.
When I first met my husband, one of the many things I
admired about him was his intelligence. He is one of those people- you know who
you are and I hate you- that can read a 900 page book and actually remember
what was in it several days/years later. Hell, I can’t remember what happened
in the last damn chapter I read a half hour ago! Did Edward bite Bella? Did
Jacob get naked? But I digress-
My husband traveled quite a bit when we first got together,
and sometimes I was able to go with him. On this occasion, we were driving
through some remote stretch of Nebraska and passed a historical marker called The Indian Massacre
Sight.
So my husband sweetly asks-“Here is where they found the lost Fukawi Indian tribe- do you know about them?” So, as not to look stupid, I reply “Well, I do remember reading something about them in high school”. So, off Bob goes telling me this wonderful story about this little Indian tribe called the Fukawi that one day just up and disappeared. The story went on for about 10 minutes. I will shorten it here as I know you all have a life you need to get back to. He explains that the Pawnee and the Sioux searched for months and months looking for this little lost tribe. And as they stood in the middle of this part of the prairie they would look around and yell “WHERE THE FUCKAWI?” Now, as I realize I have been totally busted, I am laughing so hard that I am crying while driving the car doing 65 MPH- well maybe 80- down the highway. Not Good.
So my husband sweetly asks-“Here is where they found the lost Fukawi Indian tribe- do you know about them?” So, as not to look stupid, I reply “Well, I do remember reading something about them in high school”. So, off Bob goes telling me this wonderful story about this little Indian tribe called the Fukawi that one day just up and disappeared. The story went on for about 10 minutes. I will shorten it here as I know you all have a life you need to get back to. He explains that the Pawnee and the Sioux searched for months and months looking for this little lost tribe. And as they stood in the middle of this part of the prairie they would look around and yell “WHERE THE FUCKAWI?” Now, as I realize I have been totally busted, I am laughing so hard that I am crying while driving the car doing 65 MPH- well maybe 80- down the highway. Not Good.
Fast forward a few hundred miles down the road to Pulaski, Iowa. Boy we
know how to travel! My smart ass husband starts telling me about how this town
was named after some general in some war. (He told me all the specifics of
course but I don’t remember them!) Yeah, right honey. Fool me once.
Have you heard the phrase liar liar pants on fire? We get to our destination
where we meet up with a friend of his who is a high school history teacher.
Bob tells me to go ahead and ask him about Pulaski. And guess what? The damn
town is indeed named after said General. SHIT.
And this, my friends, is why I never believe a damn thing my
husband tells me.
Have a wonderful day- and don’t believe anything my husband
ever tells you if you ever meet him-unless he tells you I am smart and pretty.
:)
Courtenay
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