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This is a multiple part story, written in a colloquial style. Bien sûr!

Why I Don't Hunt with No School Teachers!
Copyright 2012 – Stephen Redgwell

I learned a long time ago never to go huntin' with school teachers. I didn't much care for them when I was a kid, but they really angervated me when I got older! I've been meanin' to tell my grandkids this story, but their daddy is a teacher himself and there hasn't been any peace around the house since before the wedding.

The big problem with teachers, and my son in law especially, is they don't know when to shut up. Just gettin' Dalton to clamp it at the end of the day is impossible! He prattles on every chance he gets. The poor kids! Teachers just don't understand that no one cares to listen to them on holidays, after school or on weekends. Did I just say weekends? Heck, especially then!

This is what I'm talkin' about. One Saturday afternoon, I went over to my daughter's house. Standing on the front porch, holdin' up a well used, 600 page copy of Hans Dietrich Von Kurfurstenburger's Advanced Grade School Grammar - Fifth Edition (Revised), was Dalton. It was the weekend and you could hear him from the street, tryin' to cram some English into two terribly bored, fidgety children. That man is pure evil.

"But daddy, it's Saturday! Can Jo and me go play on the swings?" That was my youngest granddaughter, Melissa. She was only six and listenin' to her daddy was torture.

"No, no, no, Melissa! It's 'MAY Jo and I play on the swings, please?' You are asking permission, so we use the word 'may'. And it's 'Jo and I', not 'Jo and me'! One final thing: you simply wish to play, not to 'go play'. Grammar is important!"

Melissa's frown turned to a smile when she saw me walkin' up the driveway. I waved at the kids and shouted,

"Hey Dalton, don't you think them kids get enough of that during the week, or are you into S&M?"

Jo, the oldest, smiled at me, waved, and asked, "What's S&M, daddy?"

Dalton turned six shades of red and told the children they could play on the swings. He seemed a little ticked off and asked,

"Why do you insist on speaking that gutter talk every time you visit?"

I smiled and told my son in law it was time to pull the chalkboard out of his ass and act like a real person. "Hey Dalton, I think I used a simile. Here's another. 'Now shut up like you know how!' "

Dalton started to answer. "Actually, that's not a..."

But I cut him off.

"I'll be damned what my daughter sees in you. One day, when I'm an old man, lyin' on my death bed, I'll likely have an epiphany. You know what that is, Dalton? I'm talkin' about havin' a sudden understanding or an insight about you. On the other hand, it's unlikely that I'll ever figure you out."

Dalton just shook his head and called for my daughter, Sam. That's short for Samantha. Still shaking his head, he went inside the house. A couple of seconds later, my daughter came runnin' out the door.

"Hi daddy! I'm sorry that you had to see that. I've tried to tell Dalton that weekends are for having fun, but he thinks the kids need to be prepped now for college!"

"That's okay, honey. Tell you what, I'm gonna give you and the girls a break. I figure to break Dalton of that annoying habit of always bein' a teacher, and take him huntin'. Would you like that?"

Samantha gave me a big hug and whispered in my ear, "I think that's wonderful, daddy, but Dalton isn't the outdoor type..."

"Don't worry little girl, what's the worst that can happen? Maybe we'll lose him and my grandkids won't have any more weekend English lessons!"
---

The following week, I showed up at three thirty in the morning to get Dalton. We stowed his gear in my pickup and took off. He looked tired, which was good. At least he wouldn't be tryin' to correct my English. Heck, I was speakin' it before he was a twinkle in his old man's eye. Come to think of it - and this might sound mean spirited - it was probably a good thing that his dad died young. He didn't have to watch his son grow up to be a moron.

I greeted Dalton in a loud, clear voice. "Hot damn! A weekend of deer huntin' - just you and me! Ain't that something?"

"Oh yes, it's something alright..."

"Don't get sassy, boy! By ten o'clock, we should be up to our armpits in deer guts. I brought plenty of beer, bacon and gummi bears to snack on."

"Gummi bears?"

"That's right. Them and beer are two of the world's most nearly perfect foods. Listen here, Dalton. When this earth was made, all the lower forms of life was made to munch on plants. That fattened them up for the higher forms - us."

Dalton had a disgusted look on his face and said, "Not everyone eats meat, you know. Some people have seen the light. Too much meat means high blood pressure, bad cholesterol, acne, clogged intestines..."

"Shut up, boy! It means hickory smoked heaven, hot off the stove. You'll change your tune when you smell bacon fryin' as you're wakin' up! In the meantime, here's a brick. Just one quick blow to the head and I figure things should be peaceful for a few hours, while we're on the way..."

After a few minutes, Dalton was out like a light from a well aimed hunk of masonry to his noggin - courtesy of his father in law.