Since it is Hunting Season I thought I would repost this which made me laugh today. A newer post is below it. Welcome to Moron Central aka Fitch World You know you live with a bunch of morons when their idea of a fun evening is inspecting roadkill for eating potential. Now I love my hubby, goofball that he is and I deal with most of his weird ways but last night was a bit much. There is only so much a city girl can handle in the name of assimilation. You see Bill was born a country boy. He grew up in a small East TX town that isn't much different from our small MS town. So he fits right in. I, on the otherhand, didn't and don't. I guess I do in some ways but I'll never be the outdoorsy sort as is apparent from the camping misadventures and from my lack of enthusiasm over the whole hunting experience. So anyway, last night Nita came over and we all drank a few beers together. Her daughter (16) came with her and watched the kiddos inside so we could sit outside by the fire. Before we started drinking we had Bill run to town for some burgers. He took ages getting back. When he finally returned he had blood covering his hands and he was talking on the phone. "What happened?" I mouthed to him to which he responsed with the hold on signal. I'm supposed to hold on while you have blood all over yourself. Ummmm yeah... "Whose blood is that?" I said a bit louder this time. "Bill!" Had my husband turned into a wild rabbit killer unbeknownest to me? Was he a spree killer? About the time my imagination was rampaging out of control he hung up the phone. "It's just deer blood." Said he. "Just deer blood. Just deer blood? And how did you end up covered in deer blood?" I looked at the car for assurance that the deer hadn't been out playing deer roulette again. "Some lady ran into a deer and I moved it out of the highway. It's no big deal." "Is the lady ok?" I asked. "Did you take the deer?" Nita asked. "Did you...TAKE THE DEER?" I repeated after her, clarifying what I had heard. "Yes, why not? The meat would be just fine. Was it big?" "Someone just ran over Bambi and you want to go get the meat?" I asked. "I don't think that is the best idea. Why don't we not and say we did?" "Why don't we go and say we didn't?" She asked. "No really..." I managed to put them off for several hours but after a few more drinks they were unmanageable.
"Let's go get that deer." Bill said. "We can take my truck." Nita chimed in. "Let's not. Y'all can't drive, you've been drinking." "But you haven't, you can drive us." "No really, I shouldn't. I couldn't. NO THANKS." "Come on Tiff..." Nita said. "You are always complaining about your lack of excitement and how you want to get out of the house. This will be fun and C can watch the kids." "Picking up road kill isn't exactly my idea of a great time." But neither heard me as they were already running for the truck. We drove up and down the road, back and forth, looking for the deer. But it wasn't to be. "Someone already got it. Damn the luck." Said Bill. "Hell, lets go hunting." said Nita. "We're gonna get us a deer." "Let's not." I said, largely ignored. So we went to Nita's hunting land (thankfully just up the road) where I managed to get the brand new 2004 Ford fullsize stuck in the mud. "I told you we shouldn't." I said to my now captive audience. And we didn't get a deer. PTL! | 
