Hubby took our son on his first hunting trip last weekend. They went south to a property owned by his uncles. These are the hillbilly kinfolk from his dad’s side, not his mama’s hootenanny family.
At first I was hesitant to let him go. There are some safety issues with this family that give me cause for concern. I once witnessed hubby nearly getting his head blown off when his cousin dropped a shotgun. As traumatic as it was for me, the whole incident was like a big joke to the rest of the family.
They think everything’s funny. I told hubby that if they shot our son’s leg off they’d still be laughing about it twenty years from now at family reunions.
“Hey, remember that time when we shot the boy in the leg? Come here, Gimpy. Show us your pros…prosthe…fake leg!”
They still joke about the time when my father-in-law was a kid and he was shooting fifty-cent pieces with a .44. One flew back and hit his younger brother Gary, leaving a solid, half-dollar, imprint right on his chest.
Another time hubby’s dad was shooting a .22 and the shot ricocheted and hit his brother Dan in the leg. This is the same brother that has been struck by lightning twice, so we don’t stand very close to him at family gatherings.
Given the history, I probably should have never let him go, but I wanted our son to have bonding time with his dad, and really get to know his great-uncles. And since my father-in-law wouldn’t be going along, I figured he had a pretty good chance of coming home unscathed. Add that to the extreme amount of testosterone coursing through son’s veins, and I rationalized, a weekend away with a shotgun and a bunch of hillbillies might be good for him. I did caution him though, that if it began to storm he should find a nice big tree to stand under, a safe distance from Dan.
He was bubbling over with excitement when he arrived home. “Uncle Gary said even if I stay there for a week I don’t have to shower the whole time. And Uncle Dan said the silk worms are so heavy they done measured him for a suit!”
Apart from the fact that they didn’t actually shoot any turkeys, the weekend was everything an eleven-year-old boy could hope for. He ate loads of junk food washed down with root beer, did all of his peeing outdoors, listened to manly stories and jokes being told around a campfire, and found two leeches and a tick on himself. He also never had to say excuse me when he passed gas, which was frequently because they ate ultra spicy venison chili, and when he said please and thank you his uncles “looked at him funny” so he quit using those niceties as well.
The most exciting part though was that he finally earned a real nickname. Eventually every boy outgrows the nickname given to him by his mother. In his case I’ve always referred to him as, “my little preemie.” Technically he outgrew that by three months of age when he weighed in at thirteen pounds. Even though he’s now three inches taller than me, I’ve still found myself calling him that from time to time. But not anymore!
Now his nickname is Dick; as in Dick Cheney. You guessed it. After all my fretting, he didn’t get shot, rather, he was the shooter!
It wasn’t really his fault though. The wiser, older uncles set up an old grill and told him to use it for target practice. Apparently, in their estimation, the shots would pierce right through the metal and make a cool sound in the process. What they didn’t count on was the first shot ricocheting off the grill and hitting one uncle in the chest. Yes, my friends, that uncle was Thunderbolt Dan.
It stung pretty badly and left a mark, but fortunately didn’t cause any serious damage. And they all had a good laugh, which is, of course, the most important thing.
My boy is proud to have finally earned a nickname. Although Dick isn’t high on my list of possible options, I suppose it could be worse. He could have come home as One-Eyed Jack, Stumpy, or The Comatose Kid. Or if they wanted to stay in the presidential vein, I’m thankful it was a vice-president and he didn’t earn the moniker Lincoln or Kennedy.
Hubby said next time maybe “Dick Cheney” will actually get to shoot a turkey. The way I see it, he already did.
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