Another story that's part of a three story rush
I had had a very introduction to my life. Now I'm not referring to being birthed from my mother (which is a already bizzare enough concept), but when I was a young tyke around the ages of 4-12. Around the early age of four my father decided for some great reason, that I was old enought to learn how to hunt, with my limited vocabulary and unusual lack of hair, I looked like a midget version of Elmer Fudd, (Don't forget the squeaky voice of course).When I aimed the small pistol (my father had given me) at the deer that was perusing the local flora and fawna, I could barely hold it up. Finally, I slowly pulled the heavy trigger...And was shot back like a hummingbird that was just swatted. That little event landed me in our in-house infirmary for about three weeks. Next was my mother who.... well, that's a story for another time.
to be continued
