The Deer Hunt

Joe and Hank got back from Wisconsin's Northwoods today, where they spent the weekend stalking Wisconsin's deer herd.

I hate deer hunting because of the huge block of time it takes Joe away and asked him point blank this afternoon if he thought he'd ever not deer hunt and instead bird hunt more frequently throughout the year.

In reply Joe relayed the following exchange. This morning, after he and Hank were sitting out in their tent for a few hours, Hank said to Joe, "You know what my favorite part of hunting is, Dad?" Joe said, "No, son, what is it?" And Hank smiled that goofy Hank grin and patted Joe to indicate that Joe was his favorite part. Just sitting out in that cold, boring tent drinking hot cocoa out of a thermos, looking for nonexistent deer and peeing into mayonnaise jars was enough for Hank because he was with his dad.

I admit it, my heart melted. As much as I like Joe to be around, clearly our boy got a lot out of having some special alone time with Dad.