If you haven't already noticed, some of our best and most entertaining conversations happen while we're in the minivan running errands.Tonight's story is no exception.
Not too long ago (while we were running errands in the minivan), Dude began talking about guns. Only he still spells it out because "gun" is a bad word.
So, as I said, he was discussing G-U-N-S during this particular outing. He thinks they're cool ... he could fight bad guys with them, etc.
Then he began thinking (out loud) about what careers he might pursue that would allow him to carry a gun. He could be the second coming of Indiana Jones, which would please him to no end. He could be a robber. A robber?! Okay, not a robber, but what else could he do and carry a gun?
Then he finally had his epiphany. He would be a policeman! They were good guys AND they got to carry G-U-N-S!
Sister, who has been patiently listening to all this, finally chimed in. "Dude!", she said. "You don't have to be a policeman. You could be a hunter! Yeah! "
"You could hunt chickens, and sell them to H-E-B!"
H-E-B, for those of you who are not from Texas, is our fabulous, home-grown regional grocery store chain. One, as you may have guessed, we frequent quite often.
Obviously, we do not frequent the country often enough. Because these two children had lost their minds! Neither of them saw the slightest problem with this chicken hunting idea. Dude's fate was sealed.
Sister wants to be a dolphin trainer. Let's hope she doesn't plan to have her brother shoot THEM and sell them to H-E-B!
Photo courtesy of Okinawa Soba.
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