Look closely, and you'll understand my dismay.
Observe the exposed belly, the blank stare directed toward the television, the way in which, even though he is eating a sandwich, the E-man is reluctant to put down his beer -- I mean, binky.
It's only a matter of time before Hubs hauls him out to the woods to kill his first deer.
Most of the McHubs hunt. And so do their offspring.
How big a deal is it? Well, I seem to recall one deer season spent in strife because Hubs engaged in a battle with my stepson's stepfather (got that?) over who would be present when my stepson made his first kill. Weekend after weekend, they argued over who would drive Stepson down to the southern part of the state, each man determined to be The One.
In case you were curious -- Hubs won.
Camo is the height of fashion for Hubs and his clan. Except for his youngest brother, who was so traumatized by his first kill that he never ventured into the woods again.
Oh, what happened? Well -- let's call him B. -- when B. was just a young sprout, he caved into pressure from his brothers, went into the woods, shot a deer and when he discovered it wasn't yet dead, he pulled a box cutter from his pocket (always handy because of his job at a Piggly Wiggly grocery) straddled the deer and tried to finish the job manually.
Apparently, the end result was so gruesome, B. vowed to never hunt again.
So how do I counter the Hubs effect? A daily recounting of Uncle B.'s Day of Great Shame? (narrated by Uncle B for optimal effect)
Or maybe nightly readings from the works of David Sedaris?
Or I suppose I could add Bambi to the children's list of approved movies. That did it for me.
1 comment:
Invervention! Now! Before it's too late!
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