I married a hunter.

This city girl was about to move to Chicago when I met the man of my dreams a mere three days before an interview for the job of my dreams.

I was offered the job. I turned it down.

Many thought I was a fool but I just knew . . . This one was different.

Turns out, it was worth it. I married that hunter and bore him three children.

During the past twelve years, I’ve learned not to bristle at the sight of a gun and I am far more knowledgeable on responsible gun ownership. I don’t think all people who own a gun are criminals anymore – I’ve been schooled on the second amendment.

I’m not sure I’ll ever get over seeing a gentle doe on television (or in real life) only to have my husband interrupt the moment with the sound of make-believe gunshots but whatever. There are things I like to do that he doesn’t quite understand either.

But the other day, I was going through a massive pile of stuff on my dresser, stuff that had been there for well . . . years. Don’t judge – I’ve been busy.

This is what I found:


Yes, this is indeed a first grade worksheet my daughter completed in class two years ago.

Yes, she did indeed draw a picture of her father shooting the poor, innocent little deer on her “Consonant d” worksheet.

Yes, I was indeed mortified.

Yes, indeed I share this with you to make you feel better about your parenting. No matter what you do today, at least your child didn’t draw a person shooting a poor, innocent deer on a “d” worksheet in first grade.

Thank God for teachers with a sense of humor . . .


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