Yesterday was Sunday. My husband and 10 year old son were bored. They wanted to do something. It was a beautiful sunny day, there's still snow on the field at my in-law's house. There were so many things they could have done with thier day. They could have spent the day riding the 4-wheelers and snowmobiles. They could have gone to the outdoor show at the Big E. They could have spent the day ice fishing in Vermont. It's only an hour and a half away and there's still 4 feet of ice. That's not what they did though.
No, my husband spent quite of bit of time searching the internet for directions on how to build a potato gun. And not just any potato gun will do. This one resembled a missle launcher. I only looked for a minute because when I saw that they needed a lighter, something in an aerosol can and the warning "DO NOT TRY THIS", I walked away. The boys will play and I can't stop it. Even if I say no, they will sneak off and do it. I've learned to pick my battles.
I kissed them both good-bye and prepared myself to spend the day at the ER.
An hour later, I get a text. It's a picture. It was a typical hunting picture. Hunter kneeling next to the kill, holding it's head up towards the camera, hunter's kid on the other side, smiling proudly at his dad. The kid is my son, the hunter is my husband and the kill is a coyote.
Home Depot didn't have all the parts for the potato launcher so they went coyote hunting instead.
I better get a friggin' coyote throw rug out of this.
No comments:
Post a Comment