Harvest Time

I spent the weekend at a friend's cabin.

"Be careful," said the Lovely Bride as I was packing. "It's deer opener."

"I know," I replied. "I'm bringing my antler hat. You can finally collect on my insurance."

My youngest perked up at this. "Woo hoo, we're going to be rich!"

"I love you too, buddy," I said absently, as I tucked some vinegar in with my socks.

"Why are you bringing vinegar?" the Lovely Bride asked.

"To keep away the flies."

"What?"

"You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

"Then why are you bringing honey?"

"Bear bait."

"Well, that's just great," said my middle son. "Bears. Now you're putting the whole cabin in jeopardy."

His younger brother and I giggled. The Lovely Bride looked confused.

"It's from Anchorman," I explained.

"Best movie ever," said my youngest.

"Except for Gangs of New York," said the middle one.

The Lovely Bride rolled her eyes. "Your father got in enough trouble for letting you watch that," she told the middle boy. "Don't make it worse." Turning to me she asked again, "Why are you bringing honey and vinegar?"

"It's for a recipe," I said.

"What are you making?"

"Cannibal stew."

"What's cannibal stew?" asked the youngest.

"It's made from dead people," I told him.

"Gross," he shrieked.

"Ignore your father," said the Lovely Bride.

"I learned to eat it in the Army," I told him. "It was part of our training."

"What's wrong with you?" the Lovely Bride asked.

"Seriously. That way if you're ever trapped behind enemy lines you'll have overcome the social barriers that would prevent you from doing what you need to survive."

"You've never had a problem ignoring social barriers," said the Lovely Bride.

"That's because I have high self-esteem," I said.

"Because you're a moron," said my oldest son.

"Anyway," I continued, "the Army would cook up these huge vats of cannibal stew and then everyone would have to try a spoonful."

"You're lying," said my youngest. "The Army didn't let you kill people."

"Of course not. They used people who died accidentally. Like human road kill."

"So where are you going to get a dead person this weekend?" he asked triumphantly. "Nowhere. Liar."

"He'd have a point if this conversation made sense," the Lovely Bride told me.

"I'm spending the weekend with my friends at a cabin full of liquor in the middle of the woods during deer hunting season. What are the odds we're all going to survive?"

The Lovely Bride contemplated this.

I started nibbling on her neck. "Mmm, you'd make good stew."

"Go away," she said.

"Kiss the cook," I said, giving her a smooch.

"Gross," said the youngest.