L and I went for a run along the Wabash River this morning on a barely snow packed trail. As we crossed the bridge when driving, before parking to run, I distinctly remember my father’s Wabash River Cat story. Every trip to visit Gramps and Grandma, we had to cross the Wabash River. My dad would always tell me that if I were super quiet I would hear the river cat. Now what a river cat would sound like is beyond me. Another town we’d pass through was the home of the infamous Francine. My father informed me that Francine had the unfortunate circumstance of getting her finger stuck in her nose.
Talk about one way to scare a little girl into never again picking her nose (although I still take a dig every once in a while;)
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