This Sunday afternoon turned into a day that left one lying low and slithering around like a snake searching for a mid-season snack. Even the weather played along. Gray clouds hung low and rain fell in big, fat drops, splashing hard against the small picture window. I wanted to do something with action involving the outdoors. No amount of pleading with Mama would induce her to nod her head and free me to bundle up and go outside.

“If you’re wanting something to do hold your tongue,” said Mama.

“If I hold my tongue, I can’t talk,” I said.

“Precisely.” Mama nodded her head firmly and wore her, ‘I’m not in the mood,’ face, so I clamped my lips tight.

I had entered a seen, not be heard, moment. I knew I had to play it out or I’d be yelling out a tune unkind to listening ears, so I swung my legs back and forth.

“Tie your shoe.” Mama pointed to my feet stuffed into the scuffed leathers already two sizes too small. Not the kind of action I had in mind, but if I left the lace undone, I would receive action of another kind.

Hail began to pound on our metal roof and sent all eyes to peer out at the cold outdoors. Ol Man Coff was running down our lane zig zagging around mud puddles like they were land mines and trying to dodge the hail like they were bullets. His fast, high-stepping, bowlegged style provided us with entertainment until his short form became a blur in the downpour on his trek to his homestead at the end of the lane.

Grandpa always pointed a gnarled finger whenever he spoke about our neighbor. “Ol’ man Coff is slicker than warm butter. You can’t get it ta stay on yer knife long enough ta reach yer bread. He’s down right slippery; full of slick praises that do nothin’ but expose his ersatz self-importance and exaggerate his unctuous characteristics.”

Grandpa didn’t get much formal education but he keeps our old dictionary in the necessary room, eight feet behind the cabin, and he spends quality time each day reading and learning new words. Whenever I don’t know the meaning of one of Grandpa’s words I get a sudden hankering to visit the necessary room. Today it was two fold as I started to dance around.

Mama was quick to read my mind and my footwork. She leveled her eyes on me and pointed to the coffee can in the corner. Why did learning come at such a high price?