Let the record show that I have officially reached hunter status.
Since we had no school for the entire week of Thanksgiving this year, I hunted with Dad 9 days straight! This means my 6-year-old self was rudely awakened from my warm and cozy bed at 6:00 a.m. each morning. Still in shock, I played dead while Dad struggled to dress my limp body in thermal underwear and blaze orange outerwear. Once I could pry open one eye, I kissed mom goodbye and then stumbled out into the cold, dark woods to draw, color, play Sneaky Sasquatch, and occasionally glance out the window to look for deer.
It was everything… peaceful, beautiful and centering. Sometimes dad would even allow us to return home for a nice warm lunch prepared by momma dearest before we would trek back to our headquarters and continue the hunt until the woods were just as dark as we found them pre-sunrise.
Despite COVID putting a damper on making cabin memories, life felt good in that deer stand. So, I soaked up every moment of having Dad to myself, particularly since Genesee has threatened to crash this party next year.
And even though mom isn’t a good hunting sport like me, she seems surprisingly supportive of dad building a bigger deer stand so Genesee can join us…. the lengths mom will go to chase her dreams of reaching sleep-in status.
I guess we all strive for our own symbols of status, or perhaps we just take different paths on the quest for peace and quiet.