The Sloth Race

Two sloth were going to race one another to see who could get the least done in the longest time. Pierre claimed he was from France and wore his top speed of 00 on his jersey. Brady, from Kansas originally, preferred negative 55. It was a gorgeous warm day as they lumbered toward the starting line. They had wanted to start the race the day before but it was just too beautiful. So they decided they would start today.

As they went along Pierre heard the most wonderful bird song he could remember. "Such a beautiful song, such a bountiful tree, such succulent leaves, we must go and see,no?" he said. "No..." Brady answered, but to no avail. The two sloth went to the tree, enjoyed the beautiful song and luscious leaves until noon. From the height of the tree they watched the sun shimmer on the fast flowing river below. "Shall we go down there?" Brady asked, having been satisfied with the fruit of the tree. Pierre agreed and they went down to the river.

High above the water a green heron began it's decent. It had seen the silvery glint of a fish just below the surface, bankedsharply left and headed straight for it's prey. Brady watched as the heron plunged, surfaced and flew off, fish in beak. "Too much work", he thought to himself, "and way too risky." Pierre barely noticed as he was observing a diligent ant trail moving the casualties of a great beetle disaster to their anthill. Beetles make a great winter stew, he thought, for a sloth. He had no idea how ants prepared them. On a day like today he would have nothing to do with preparing stew. "tsk tsk...", he tsked, shaking his head,"...such waste of a lovely day..." They sat by the bank of the river watching the fish jumping, the herons diving and the ants trailing as the clouds drifted gently across the horizon.

It was terribly hot that hour of the day. They had meandered a short way down the river bank when they began to feel the heat. A few yards from them was another shade tree. Brady knew it would provide him shelter and comfort. " Let's go to the shade and rest awhile then we can make our race. "Pierre agreed and they rested in the shade. It was cool under the tree and the two sloth scratched at the ground, digging up larvae and nibbled on the tree's bark. "This is a marvel that this tree was here for us, for I was famishing, and almost burning in the sun." " Oui, oui," said Pierre," this is true, for it would be terrible to begin a race that way."

"Mon Dieu... Look at your shirt!!" He gasped. Brady looked at his shirt. -55 was smeared with dirty sticky tree sap. " Oh my, I cannot race like this." "No, no, it would be a disgrace, dear Brady, to lose in such a messy jersey." "Or indeed to win..." Brady said. He and Pierre discussed the shirt, the sap, and winning the race for close to an hour before resolving to go back down to the river to wash it.

Brady was now sweating like a boxer in June as he scraped and scrubbed and raked and rubbed his shirt against a rock jutting out of the riverbank. In a way, he truly enjoyed the task but if Pierre found out he would flip his French toupee. But he wouldn't as he was now nodding off atop a huge boulder. Pierre always found the perfect rock to catch the perfect evening breeze. Brady imagined changing the rules to the race. He was suddenly thinking about very unslothlike things such as discipline and persistence and singlemindedness. Unfortunately all of these thoughts promptly flitted away as swiftly as they came when Brady saw he was rubbing the numbers off of his jersey. Brady's sloth muscles soon began to ache the way sloth muscles do when they are used. The moon was rising now and Brady thought he really could use a nap. After all he had just had a vigorous workout, for a sloth.

Brady climbed up on the rock next to his friend, who made an exceptionally soft pillow. As he dozed off, he nudged Pierre and said, "Shall we race tomorrow?"

"Oui, Oui..." said Pierre, in his sleep. " Oui Oui,
...tomorrow."

From the book "Wage Peace"...

(loosely based on Ecclesiastes 10:18 -

"Through sloth the roof sinks in, and through indolence the house leaks.")

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