So, besides the never ending health scares that encompass poor little Xander, Sam tried to go all hick on me this weekend. It is a disturbing enough story for me to NEED to share it with the rest of you.
Yesterday morning I'm trying to get Xander to perk up so we were outside. Buddy and Belle were riding bikes and Sam was doing his "Master of all I survey" thing that he does on the weekends. He checks the trees, the garden, all that good stuff.
Suddenly the kids start making a ruckus and Sam is jabbering at them about eating a squirrel. I was only half paying attention until I realized he was serious!
Here's the story:
Sam was in the lot behind our house looking over the fruit trees and trying to decide what to do with them to prep for the summer. He sees a squirrel in one of the trees and decided to get that nuisance, so he throws a rock in its general direction to scare it out of the tree.
Well, he hits the squirrel dead on (as he said, not the plan, but a fun surprise) and it falls out of the tree. Apparently the next logical step was to pick up a stick and kill it.
Then he comes trotting over to the kids with the squirrel corpse and plops it down in front of me (much like a cat does when showing off its mouse prize). Belle, Buddy and Xander are all huddled around the murdered squirrel oohing and ahhing over their father's hunting prowess.
I however am not entertained as I know what Sam is planning: Squirrel stew for dinner.
He starts getting out his skinning knife and tanning board as he was planning to skin it, tan the hide and make a hat out of it. Then we were going to eat squirrel for dinner.
I usually let his odd mountain man shenannigans go as long as they aren't really hurting me, but this was looking too Deliverance for my taste, so I put my foot down and made him dispose of the squirrel corpse. This of course made him upset because he has a thing about not killing sport, but only killing to provide for the family, but I really didn't (and still don't) care.
I am not eating fricking squirrel until the end of the world is upon me. As long as there is a cow to butcher I am going to bypass the rodent eating portion of this worldly existence.
So, there you go. My husband can kill a critter with a rock and a stick. I can die now.
Oh and I was considering taking pics for this post, but I just couldn't do it. No squirrel snuff film here.
I almost forgot the most disturbing part! Belle grabs a stick and spent the next hour stalking another squirrel for her and Sam to kill and eat. Sam was in heaven and I was just beyond words. Now my kids are carrying sticks on walks in case "we get hungry". Because I don't already have a grocery store worth of food in the house.
Before you know it we'll be wearing loincloths and communicating through a series of hoots and clicks (well, X is already doing that) and screeching and yelling when we see fire.
Where did my fancy husband go and who is this mountain man before me? Oh Rigby, what hath thou wrought (wroghten? Wrotted?)