Friday, February 13, 2009

Coyote Training

Ya know, some of em are learning "Play Dead" really well....

Can I Borrow...


FarmBro's birthday (and anniversary) is coming up.

FarmBro has been having to borrow rifles from Farmdad to go shoot coyotes.

So last night the Farmparents went over to Bro and Sis In Law's house to visit a bit. Bro had gotten called back into work for something, and wasn't home, so the Farmparents hung around for a bit visiting with SIL...

When Bro walked in, Farmmom told him "I need a favor."

Bro, figuring she needed him to build something or fix something or lift something, groaned quietly to himself.


"I need to borrow a rifle."

"Um, ok? What do you need?"

At this point I figure Bro was trying to decide which .22 rifle he was more willing to have destroyed. Considering the amount of firepower at the Farmparents' house, this is the only conceivable reason that Farmmom would need to borrow a rifle from him.

"A .223"

Reports say that Bro was, understandably, looking at Farmmom like she'd gone off the deep end. He didn't own a .223, had never owned a .223, and here was his mother asking him to borrow one....

"I don't have..... dayum."

Farmdad had picked up the box containing the .223 rifle that was Bro's birthday present.

From the sounds of things, it's pretty nice... If I can pry it out of his hands long enough I'll get pictures and post them.


In other news, Eldest Nephew is getting a running start on FarmBro's ER visit record.

See, Eldest Nephew has a fun game. He's got a pair of John Deere boots ("Just like yours Auntie Farmgirl!") that he loves to wear. However, when he takes those boots off, he likes to fling them over his head to hear the thumping sound they make when they hit the floor. No amount of "Don't do that, you're going to break something" has managed to curb this activity. At least not when he's out of Bro and SIL's immediate sight line.

So the other night he takes his boots off, and flings them, and one of them hits the light fixture directly above his head.

Yep, broke the light fixture, kiddo got cut. Right by his eye, so we're really thankful that he wasn't hurt worse.

(This, of course, on top of his previous attempts at killing himself by falling through a window onto a patch of winter-trimmed rosebush stumps, and whizzing in a plugged in lamp.... Really, it amazes me sometimes that the males in our family survive long enough to reach puberty, let alone reproduce.)

Off to the ER they go. The Doc on call just happened to be the one that took care of 90% of Bro's visits when he was going through his accident prone stage (we're talking at least one visit to the Emergency Room per month for like... a year and a half.)

SIL sees the Doc coming in, and having worked at the hospital back in the day, so to speak, smarts off, "At least it's not one of your frequent flyers!"

Doc looks at her, looks at Eldest Nephew, looks back at SIL and just says:


He didn't quite manage to get stitches, Doc used the fancy dancy skin glue instead. This, of course, means that he'll try harder next time. He's a little boy, it's what they do....