Of Mice and Men’s Legs
Bob McKeel passed away last week.
I imagine most of you didn’t know Bob. Can’t say as I really knew Bob, other than he was the father of my best friend from elementary into high school.
And I did know that Bob was a plumber, and his wife would often tell us that one should never marry a plumber if one wanted the toilets to work properly in their own house.
And I know that Bob had a false leg, and that he was the kicker for his high school football team. Apparently the fake leg was a good mallet, and he would send the ball flying on kick off. Sometimes he would also send the leg flying on kickoff, following the trajectory of the ball. Which would scare the bajeebus out of the returning team.
At least that is the story that Bob told.
Oh, and I knew that he had a hole in his leg (I’d seen it for myself); I also knew that a mouse lived in that hole. At least that is what Bob said. As kids we were invited to put a finger into the hole, with the knowledge that the mouse sometimes bit. Any trembling finger that traversed the opening was met with a high pitched *squeak*, scary enough to prevent any of us reaching all the way to the mouse.
I often wondered if it was a good thing, having a pet traveling in one’s leg; or if it would be a nuisance. Not that I ever believed that tall tale. Although I kept wishing for the courage to pet the mouse. Hmmm.
Here’s to you Bob, and all other storytellers doing plumbing by day.
Just my thoughts,