Redneck Parenting 101

I go to the farm for 2 days and all of my redneck parenting instincts just bloom.

Your hands are covered in filth from the shop floor.... here, have a goldfish cracker.
You want to ride a 4-wheeler? Sure. The helmet is vintage 1974? No problem... I'm sure it will protect your precious gourd if you fall off.
Carseats? Fertilizer trucks don't have carseats.
Going into a mud puddle over your boot tops does so count as washing between your toes.
You want to wear the same grime-encrusted jeans you wore yesterday? Why not? Less laundry.
Cwap? The cattle trailer is full of..... oh, my, I can't wait to hear what new words you teach the other daycare kids on Monday.
Why hasn't Fisher Price developed a toy that mimics the hydraulics on a tractor bucket?
A packet of "pressed meat," 3 slices of cheese and a baby carrot is a perfect lunch.
Wiping your nose on a baby kitten isn't really excellent social etiquette.
Fishing for blue gills and crying when Daddy catch-n-releases them because you wanted to pet them like the kittens.
Your grandpa trying to potty train you by showing you how to pee in the dirt.
Sure you can go drive the hantavirus-infested old schoolbus parked behind the shop... I think they just use it to store deadly chemicals now.
You picking up a giant sledge hammer and trying to take a swing at the sprayer boom.
The air compressor scaring you.
Going out to feed cows with grandpa at 6:30 am and then needing to eat a second breakfast around 9:00 because you've been working so hard.
You played on a dirt pile most of one afternoon while the guys put in forms to pour concrete..... I've never seen such a filthy child.
We sent Auntie up to test out the treehouse before we let you go up with her... so we are sort of responsible parents, aren't we? Oh, and we didn't let you light the garbage barrels on fire (that's daddy's job) and we made you come in the house (and quit playing on the giant METAL swingset) when the lightening started.....