I hadda tole Momma what I ain't doin' no chores today acause Mrs. Pearson sayed what Sunday bees apposed a be a day a rest. Even God bees restin', I tole her. She up an' sended me to bed. An' she were sayin', ooo, ooo, you must of bees sooo tired, all like a smart pants. Which, that were rude at God's own idea. I thinks what she better be careful 'bout a ball a thunder 'n lightenin' gonna pop up an' stripe her dead. 'Cept for God bees restin' today. She prawly oughta bring a umbrella to work with her tomorrow.