I believe this situation is the only time a daughter can say the word cock and not get slapped by her mother. Today I drove to mommykin’s place of residence. We had planned on fishing, because, that’s what all good little rednecks do, not to mention it has been a gorgeous day here, but, her man-friend can’t find his fishing equipment. I think we’re going tomorrow to get a few things. At any rate, we sat on the back porch, talking, feeling the nice cool, spring breeze, when it started. The unprovoked, (on our part at least), illegal cock fighting. I see a look in mommykin’s eyes. The look of excitement. “Look at ‘em go. Watch that little game rooster go after the big white one.” I raise an eyebrow. I wasn’t aware there is a difference in roosters-I have no idea what a game rooster is.. do they play Clue and Scrabble? “Watch ‘em spar.” Me: “I really don’t want to sit here and watch animals kill each other.” “Oh, they do this all the time, they’re declaring their territory.” Ok, this territory consists of a small patch of grass a rock and a fenced shelter where they roost. I haven’t heard so much commotion since the time I stole a block of cheese from the government cheese line, (I’m really kidding about this). Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo. Mommykins: “That’s Boots.” The woman has named her favorite rooster because he has feathers at the bottom of his legs that look like a ghetto version of Ugg boots. Me: “You really need to get out of this holler, (hollow for you city folk) more.” I would rather have been ripping apart worms and fishing. She was still watching the “sparring” when I left.