Are women psychic?

have always believed that mothers have strange powers when it comes to their kids. Take, for instance, a mother can have her back to you and see you when you are up to no good. Do they have eyes in the back of their heads? I have tried since I was a little fellow to find out. No luck so far. There are times when I will be doing something and my wife will come in from another room and ask “what do you think you are doing”? Psychic, I sometimes wonder. I will say, “I am not doing anything,” and get that funny look from her. Think about it fellows, they got you figured out before you can start anything.

Mothers can see their kids being mean before they do it. I remember when I was a small boy living up around White, Georgia. We lived in what was once a cheese factory. The factory had went out of business and the building made into a house. I remember that out from the house there was this big spring; when the factory was operating it furnished it with water. I believe it was the first house that I had ever seen with running water. It was a big spring and had a small stream running from it.

The stream was fairly deep where it poured over from the spring. It shallowed down to where it was only about six inches deep in places and was several feet wide. In these places it was easy to get into the water. Under supervision, we kids got to play in it. Sometimes with no supervision, the kids played in it. That’s where the Mother Psychic power came in.

I remember even today that there were all colors of fish in the stream. There were gold and blue color ones. There was others that was not as pretty. I had three sisters that watched over me while my mother did what she had to do. When she told me not get in the water, they would not let me in the water. I made up my mind that I was going to catch me some fish. I found a big mouth jar and sneaked off to the stream.

I rolled up my pants legs and waded in to the water. With pants leg rolled up and jar in hand I waded out to the middle. At this place it was about six feet wide and just deep enough to cover my feet. I bent over holding the jar in the water. The fish would swim up to it, but when I tried to get them into the jar they would take off up the stream. I tried and tried to get them in. No such luck they were too skittish to go into the jar.

I remember that my pants leg came unrolled and fell into the water. With wet hands I rolled them back up. There on the bottom of the stream were all kind of small sand rocks. There was something else that shined in the sand. I had heard some of the old folks talk about gold being in streams so I decided to get me some of what was on the bottom of the stream. Another mistake: I had to squat down to pick up the sparkling stuff. The seat of my pants touched the water. I immediately got my bottom out of the water.

That day I stayed outside and away from the girls until my clothes had dried. I found what was a medicine bottle and began to put my gold in it. I kept slipping off from the girls and gathering the sparkling stuff from the sand. I had all kind of small sand rocks. I kept them hid. I finally got my bottle of gold full, but was not satisfied. I still wanted some of the pretty fish. I figured it out if I pushed up the sand and small rocks and made a dam the fish would have to come back up beside me. I would take the jar and scoop them up. I built the dam.

The big moment, I rolled up my pants leg and waded out into the middle of the stream. The water came up to my knees and the pants leg rolled down again. There I stood knee-deep in water, holding a jar. The fish were swimming around me as if they were having a party. I scooped, missed. I must have stood in the water for at least an hour. No fish in the jar. I trudged off back to the house. I tried to get the water out of the legs of my pants. I went inside. My mother stood at the door with that look on her face. I knew what was coming. “You,” she said, “Get in this house, you have been in the stream.” I remember thinking as small as I was “look out old butt here it comes.”

I got it all right, but it soon was forgotten. I remember seeing what my mother used to sift flour. It had a handle and screen in the bottom. My mother had gone somewhere and left the girls in charge of me. I waited for the right moment, then through the kitchen, grabbed the sifter and out the back door. I ran to where I had backed up the water. With pants leg rolled up and the jar in one hand and the sifter in the other I stood in the middle of the stream. I had found out that if I wiggle my toes in the water the fish wold come to them. I began to move the sifter in to position. Then fast as I could I made a movement through the water. I came up with a blue fish caught in the sifter. A couple more whisks through the water and I had four in my jar. I smiled thinking my mother sure would be surprised to see the pretty fish. I had forgotten about the wet pants leg and my mother’s sifter.

I had a smile a mile long on my face as I showed my fish to my sisters. I sat on the porch waiting for my mother and father to come home. It wasn’t long till they came in. I couldn’t hardly wait to show them my fish. My father smiled and said, “Look at your mother.” She stood there with the sifter in her hand and a frown on her face. “You,” she said, “In the house and get those wet clothes off.” I took my fish and went inside. I’m here to tell you that what followed wasn’t pleasant to the sitting down place. I was made to put the fish back in the stream.

I often wondered, what was the gold-colored stuff that I got out of the stream. I remember that a couple of men came home to see my father. While they were there my bottle of gold disappeared. The younger one kept looking at it. After they left I looked for it but never found it. I remember that my father said it was stuff that had came off of the sand rock that covered the bottom of the steam. To a small boy it was gold and someone took it from me.

I realize that the wet pants legs was a giveaway that I had been in the stream. I was a small boy who never looked back at the wet foot prints on the floor. I could not understand how she knew. Of course, the girls didn’t help out, or did they? LONIE ADCOCK