Things we did as kids around tractors that got our

Well, we sat there and argued the whole time he was loading the spreader and I pretty much had her convinced when I suddenly changed my mind. I got up, opened the door, and got out. When I slammed the door, I realized my sister's hand was in it. No amount of consoling or threatening would get her to stop crying and dad was heading for the cab so I decided it was time to leave.

I ran off and hid under the junk wagon for the rest of the day. He knew where I was and musta decided the guilt was much worse than a beating because he left me there. My sister got 13 stiches from that little stunt. She still has the scar to this day.

She actually told me today that an Iraqi policeman asked her how she got that scar. She told him. Guess I toughened her up enough to join the Army as an MP.

They had a big red tractor in the barn and we used to play on it. One day a destructive bent (fun) hit us and we broke the gauges, let all the calcium out of the rears (tastes real bad), peed in the fuel tank, pulled all the plug wires and generally trashed that tractor. We did not scratch the paint though. The rig sat for a yr. that way and when owner came to get it he was pi$$ed. We blamed it on some neigboring kids (5 miles away). Dad knew better and tore our butts UP!!

Not sure how much it cost to get it fixed but a few yrs. after that incident I owned up. Looking back now I know I would be pi$$ed if my 2 boys did the same thing. Thanks for the not so proud memories :)

My dad was carefully checking the knives on a sickle mower and repeated told my brother not to touch anything - for some reason he then pulled the PTO lever. My dad jumped back and grabbed him by the belt off the tractor seat and wailed on him for about 30 seconds straight - about three beats per second. Dad let go of him and let loose with a stream of curses and said to shut down the tractor - he was going to the house - and bent over to PICK UP HIS FINGERS that where laying on the ground. Cost him his thumb and index finger that the doctor couldn't sew back on.

The other thing I got in trouble for was tripping the trip cultivator while parked in a low spot in the spring of the year. Took a lot of messin around to get that thig out when it got dry enough to get it.

Anyway, one day Dad was loading the 35 and had it up on the bed of the truck, and I was in the cab of the truck. The truck's engine was running, and the PTO was still in gear. I had seen Dad use those long levers that came up thru the truck's floor boards so I thought I would test fly a couple of them.

Next thing I know, the Old Man was hollerin' like a barbed mule. He probably would have impressed some decathlon athletes as he appeared in a flash at the truck's door and smacked one of the levers in the other direction.

He dragged me out of the truck by my belt and whacked my rear but good.