Oh, Deer?
Every morning my father, like clockwork, would be out the door headed to work. I only remember him missing one day - he was sick. Spend the entire morning in bed sick. When he finally emerged, he headed to work.
Well, this morning he was home, and he wasn’t sick? I was running around trying to get ready for school. He sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee. After the third pass, I stopped to ask him, ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Nothing. Just having a cup of coffee.’ I didn’t know what was up, but something didn’t feel right. I continued getting myself together. Dad continued nursing his coffee.
After a few more minutes I went back and asked again. ‘What are you up to?!’ His face told there was more to this morning than having coffee.
He stopped my questioning with a held up hand. ‘Tsssh. Tsssh.’ Shifting in his chair for a better view, I followed his gaze out the window. Had no idea what I was looking for?
The garbage truck just pulled up. I continued to scan, hoping to see what he was seeing. Nothing seemed out of place - that is, except the oddly attentive man sitting at the table.
Two sanitation man jumped off the back of the garbage truck. One grabbed a can and tossed the contents into the back of the truck. The engine idled loudly, the men yelling over the noise. The second man began to ready the next can. He lifted the cover... Then IT happened.
Like a cat, this poor guy jolted straight up in the air - accompanied by a blood-curdling scream! The cover went flying. The first sanitation man, clearly baffled by this sudden outburst, watched his partner grab his chest and stumble a few steps back.
This was the moment Dad lost it. Now a quivering crumpled ball of laughter, gasping for breath and trying not to fall out of his seat. The hands that moment ago, held a cup of coffee, were now being used to hold his stomach and chest from painful, self-inflicted bellyaches.
The remains of Dad's recent hunting excursion were positioned perfectly in the can. 'Seriously?' I reprimanded as best I could. It was a useless attempt. Dad did his own butchering, and now the head of his recent deer was perfectly positioned in the can. The tongue, pink and long, was duly hanging out. The black eyes in a fixed glaze. He even positioned the legs and hide for maximum fright. The poor sanitation men didn’t stand a chance.
Dad couldn’t control his laughter and joy over the success of his feat. Forget that he had near killed a man without even touching him. The sanitation men regained composure and found the humor - thankfully. Neither could stand, their legs were buckling from laughter.
Trying to take in all that just happened, I chastised again, ‘That is what you were waiting for?!!’ Through his red-faced, teary-eyed laughter, he mustered a nod. I couldn’t help laughing - although it felt really wrong.
‘Dad! You're demented!’
The garbage men moved to the next house. Dad regained his senses. He took a last sip of coffee and ceremoniously stood up. ‘Okay, I’m going to work.’ He was still giggling as he walked out the door.
Well, this morning he was home, and he wasn’t sick? I was running around trying to get ready for school. He sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee. After the third pass, I stopped to ask him, ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Nothing. Just having a cup of coffee.’ I didn’t know what was up, but something didn’t feel right. I continued getting myself together. Dad continued nursing his coffee.
After a few more minutes I went back and asked again. ‘What are you up to?!’ His face told there was more to this morning than having coffee.
He stopped my questioning with a held up hand. ‘Tsssh. Tsssh.’ Shifting in his chair for a better view, I followed his gaze out the window. Had no idea what I was looking for?
The garbage truck just pulled up. I continued to scan, hoping to see what he was seeing. Nothing seemed out of place - that is, except the oddly attentive man sitting at the table.
Two sanitation man jumped off the back of the garbage truck. One grabbed a can and tossed the contents into the back of the truck. The engine idled loudly, the men yelling over the noise. The second man began to ready the next can. He lifted the cover... Then IT happened.
Like a cat, this poor guy jolted straight up in the air - accompanied by a blood-curdling scream! The cover went flying. The first sanitation man, clearly baffled by this sudden outburst, watched his partner grab his chest and stumble a few steps back.
This was the moment Dad lost it. Now a quivering crumpled ball of laughter, gasping for breath and trying not to fall out of his seat. The hands that moment ago, held a cup of coffee, were now being used to hold his stomach and chest from painful, self-inflicted bellyaches.
The remains of Dad's recent hunting excursion were positioned perfectly in the can. 'Seriously?' I reprimanded as best I could. It was a useless attempt. Dad did his own butchering, and now the head of his recent deer was perfectly positioned in the can. The tongue, pink and long, was duly hanging out. The black eyes in a fixed glaze. He even positioned the legs and hide for maximum fright. The poor sanitation men didn’t stand a chance.
Dad couldn’t control his laughter and joy over the success of his feat. Forget that he had near killed a man without even touching him. The sanitation men regained composure and found the humor - thankfully. Neither could stand, their legs were buckling from laughter.
Trying to take in all that just happened, I chastised again, ‘That is what you were waiting for?!!’ Through his red-faced, teary-eyed laughter, he mustered a nod. I couldn’t help laughing - although it felt really wrong.
‘Dad! You're demented!’
The garbage men moved to the next house. Dad regained his senses. He took a last sip of coffee and ceremoniously stood up. ‘Okay, I’m going to work.’ He was still giggling as he walked out the door.