Deer Hunter

The other day a deer family strolled through our neighborhood. Single mom, two kids. The dad, missing, probably at the local salt lick reliving his latest run in (literally) with an El Camino. "So I go down, boom and the guy jumps out and tries hoisting me into his tiny car-truck. Can you believe that?" Lick. "He grabbed my horns. Nobody grabs my horns except the old lady, you know what I'm saying? So I kicked him in the moustache and ran back into French Park."

Seeing those deer tip toe down the middle of my street made me think of time travel. What if the flux capacitor teamed up with a foreign exchange student program and made it possible for ancient visitors to spend time with us here in the present future? Crazy right? If we had a pioneer named Caleb (circa 1860s) staying with us when those deer rolled up it might've looked like this....

Leah: "Brad, there's deer in our front yard!"

Brad: "By golly." (I'd be talking old fashioned to make Caleb feel welcome.)

Leah: "Oh my gosh!!!! Look at the little babies!"

Caleb: "KILL EM!"

Leah: "Caleb! Stop!"

Caleb: "DEER. FRONT YARD. KILL THEM!"

Brad: "It doesn't...we're not allowed to just kill stuff, Caleb."

Caleb: (staring blankly) "A month's worth of food is playing hopscotch in your front lawn. Quit hornswaggling and get your gun."

Brad: "I uh...yeah, I don't have a gun...Caleb."

Leah: "We have all kinds of food in the fridge, Caleb. Are you hungry?"

Caleb: "If someone doesn't get me a gun in two seconds I'm gonna cuss."

Brad: "I seriously don't have a gun, Caleb. I'm sorry."

Caleb: "Suffering succotash."

(I couldn't think of any old fashioned cuss words)