My man went out and got dinner for the family yesterday. He got up at the butt crack of dawn, dressed up in his camo duds, drove out to the farm, sat his ass in a tree in the cold and............shot his first deer. Or as he so quaintly phrases it:
He slew a deer.
That cracks me up...he didn't kill the deer or shoot the deer, he slayed the deer. Pictures of a deer/dragon keep popping up in my head. Too many fantasy novels and games of D & D in my youth I suppose.
Not only did he slay it, he dressed it as well. That in itself is a big deal for him...he is not so good around the site of blood, and the inside of a deer does not smell quite so nice as the outside (and the outside is not that pleasant to begin with).
So...in honor of his huge manly accomplishment (I am so proud of you Baby!) here is Brad with his first deer. I want you all to know that I am truly proud of him, none of this is meant as sarcasm at all. I love venison and can't wait to eat some!
