Yet another story of marital bliss…
Are any of you married to a hunter? Well…I am.
You may recall that I have these on my wall:
The ONLY redeeming quality I can find for having these on my wall… kids love to pet them. Other than that, I actually shed tears over the thought of having them hanging in my living room. I thought they would just ruin the feel of my home, make all of my pretty furniture pointless because there would be a deer head hanging over it.
Let’s just say – I got over myself and there they are. It’s the only thing my husband fought to keep from his bachelor days. He didn’t beg to keep that orange and brown comforter from 1976, or the love seat that was ripped on both side, but had a hide-away bed that he swore was more comfortable than a bed. He didn’t insist that we hang the wood carving his friend made for him that was in the shape of a deer in the woods. Nor did he insist that we display his gun collection in plain sight. So maybe I should be grateful that all I have to deal with is 2 deer heads.
***If you are squeamish, do not scroll down any further ***
And then…. this happened.
My husband killed a bear.
People, help me! HELP.
I am riddled with anxiety every time I even think of having that thing in my home. My dogs will bite it and bark at it. I suspect a certain little weenie dog may even pee-pee on it.
“Won’t it be a purdy rug in front of the fireplace?” Excuse me for swearing, but HELL NO it won’t be pretty. It’s gonna look like road-kill on my floor!
Oh my my my… What in the world can I institute in my home that would be gaggingly girly? Maybe paint the den pink? Or get a lavender rug under the sofa? I don’t know, but I’m devising my come-back plan. Any ideas you have, please share them in the comments!
Meanwhile, I will be busy fretting about the arrival of a dead bear carcass in my home…