That was funny, and sad, and poingent all rolled into one. I don't know what word I'd use to describe it, but thanks for sharing it.
I can't top it, but I do have a little story from when I was about the same age as you were. I was kind of a city boy, but my uncle and grandfather were outdoorsmen so I've hunted and cleaned game fowl. One day I invited a friend over for dinner. My grandmother was making roast dove. My friend has never had dove, but I guaranteed he would like it because grandma was such a good cook.
As soon as the plate was set in front of him, we all instantly knew something was wrong. There was no outward expression, but his eyes betrayed something deep welling up inside him. He excused himself and made a beeline for the bathroom. I don't suppose he had confronted the idea of where food came from, and to his eyes he was looking at nothing but a crispy bird carcass with the head and feet lopped off. Grampa and I spilt his portion (not wanting it to go to waste) while grandma went to go check on him. We cleared the table, and I think grandma boiled him a hot dog.
My pleasure. Thanks for the good review. I still haven't told the story of the headless chicken who knew where she was going, or the territory squabble between my wife and a Canada goose.
"I can't top it, but I do have a little story from when I was about the same age as you were. I was kind of a city boy, but my uncle and grandfather were outdoorsmen so I've hunted and cleaned game fowl. One day I invited a friend over for dinner. My grandmother was making roast dove. My friend has never had dove, but I guaranteed he would like it because grandma was such a good cook.
"As soon as the plate was set in front of him, we all instantly knew something was wrong. There was no outward expression, but his eyes betrayed something deep welling up inside him. He excused himself and made a beeline for the bathroom. I don't suppose he had confronted the idea of where food came from, and to his eyes he was looking at nothing but a crispy bird carcass with the head and feet lopped off. Grampa and I spilt his portion (not wanting it to go to waste) while grandma went to go check on him. We cleared the table, and I think grandma boiled him a hot dog.
LOL!
Did anyone ever think to show him where the material inside a hot dog comes from? Or would that be too mean?