Deer-in-a-box...

OK, so Hubs shot an 8-point buck, much cause for celebration.

But also a delicate issue. After listening to me talk of her daddy's accomplishment, Tootie wanted to know where the deer that "Daddy found" was.

Uh-oh.

I'm all about being straight with my kids, but really -- do I want to be the one to inform the kid that Bambi is all chopped up and now residing in a cooler in our Chevy Cavalier?

Nope.

Oh, and by the way, sweetie, you can check out the deer's bloody antlers if you peek into Mommy's trunk.

So...

I lied.

I told her that Daddy caught a deer and took it to a "deer place" in the city, where people will be able to feed it and pet it.

In actuality -- the "deer place" is a place known as Tommy's Country Meats.

Please, don't let her find me out.

Warm & fuzzy thought of the day: I got to see Tootie dancing in her ballet class. The session ended with a bunch of pre-schoolers hopping around to "Who let the Dogs Out?"

Bitch of the day: It's raining. Again. I hate rain. I hate gray skies. I hate the smell of damp. There's a reason I loved living in West Texas...