On Wednesday's I try to make a memory post. If you would like to join, then
click on the picture above.
When my boys were little they loved to play like they were cowboys.
I used to think that all little boys were born with a finger that can shoot.
Danny, my oldest son, was the first to introduce me to the cowboys. When he was
only three he had these three imaginary friends whose names were Frank and Jessee James
and Billy the kid. These three hooligans spent a lot of time at our house. There were many
times that the table had to be set to include them at dinnertime. And what a fit Danny would throw if we didn't go along with sitting up the dinner table for all of them. I used to have to find make-shift chairs that would sit at the table. What a vivid imagination he had.
The picture above was taken of him when he donned his first cowboy hat and boots.
They belonged to a visiting great-uncle. He told him long, detailed stories about
cowboys and that began the love of the cowboy. Many afternoons were spent riding wild horses and shooting at the bad guys as he went. Although he never considered the James brothers to be bad guys because to him they were friends!
As you can see by this picture he was still a cowboy as he grew older. But Mickey
Mouse came into his life then too!
When Danny was four his little brother, Justin, was born. He really wasn't all that interested
in him because he was "a baby". But one day Justin became a cowboy.
Here is Justin wearing another Uncle's cowboy boots and hat.
The boys spent hours upon hours running through the house, out the back door,
riding whatever they called a horse at the moment, shooting their (fingers) guns, and taking out the bad guys.
Now they are all grown. Their cowboy days are over. Wonder if they ever think about
Frank, Jesse, and Billy!