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It's Bow Beau Season! Or What Really Happened to the Mayans?


By Jody Worsham, co-author “Kin We’re Not Related To”

All rights reserved for Dictionary of Homonyms and Jerky

“Tomorrow is opening day for bow season,” yells the nine-year old.

“I don’t care.  I already have a beau,” comes from the just-learned-a-new-word-and-turning-obnoxious thirteen-year-old.

“Great!  We can go shoot’em.”

“M-a-a-a-a-m-a-a-a-a-. “

In the past, the opening of bow season was a time of peace and quiet.  At 4a.m. on opening day, Dr. Hubby would grab his compound bow, a thermos of coffee and head out for the deer stand.  If he got a deer, he would bring it home, dress it, and later, over breakfast, he would tell me all about it.  The children would awaken an hour later and after hearing the story from the original Deer Slayer, would offer comments like “That’s nice.  Can we go play?”

Today preparation for Deer Season Opening Day for Bows (sounds like a red neck concerto doesn’t it?) began with me making yet another trip to Wal-Mart.  This time for hot chocolate, in case the temperature was below 80, Dr. Peppers in case the temperature was above 80, Honey Buns in case somebody got hungry, and an extra charger so the  I-pod could be fully charged in case the deer were late showing up and somebody got restless. 

The inner-layer being taken care of, it was time to start on the outer layer.  The outer layer actually began during the summer with an extension added on to the deer stand to accommodate a cot, an additional window, and carpet.

 Now it was time for the clothing.  Camouflaged shirt, camo  pants, camo socks, camo underwear (don’t ask), camo jackets, camo boots and camo bows were located. 

 Three alarms were set for 4a.m., as if the nine-year-old would actually go to sleep.  Both old and young checked the deer cameras that had been previously set.  They checked the weather forecast again and the feeding table for deer.  (Aren’t deer always hungry?).  They were ready.

In the meantime preparations for Beau Season were underway with the thirteen-year-old.  It was time for the “Big Harvest Costume Dance”.    Being competitive and a theatre arts teacher, I was all for creating the winning costume.  She was all about creating the “right look”. 

“How about these jeans and this top?” I suggested.

“Noooo.  Those jeans make me look fat.”

“They didn’t make you look fat two days ago.”

“Maaaaaaama…..”

“Sorry.  What about the top?”

“No, that won’t look good if it is a fast song.”

“There’s a special wardrobe for fast dances?” I foolishly asked.

“My   arms    will   show   if   it   is  a   fast  dance” she said patiently and slowly  as if speaking to a hearing challenged teen-fashion alien, which I guess I am.

After going through her entire wardrobe, she settled on a batman shirt and the same jeans that an hour ago had made her look fat.    

Then it was on to the false eyelashes, her one concession to a costume look.  No matter how she attached the lashes, she ended up looking like a deranged spider.  Even I agreed she looked more like Spider Woman than Batman’s wife.   She ditched the lashes.   Once she got the adhesive removed, she looked normal.  Ok, maybe a little red around the eyes, but I kept my mouth shut.

I dropped her off at school for the dance, then came back home to help load the truck for the Bambi Safari.  The nine-year-old decided to sleep in all his camo clothes.  “It will save time in the morning.  I can just wake up and shoot a deer.”  I hope he gets out of the house first.

I picked up the scowling thirteen-year-old from the dance.  On the not so silent ride home, I learned that Beau #1 had turned into a real jerk.  Great!  Tomorrow with my luck I will spend the day dealing with beau jerky and deer jerky. 

As I was hanging up the car keys, I noticed the souvenir Mayan calendar on the wall.  Youth Bow Season and the beginning of Thirteen-year-old Obnoxious Beau Days had occurred on the same date.  Now I know what really happened to the Mayans.

Happy Bow Beau Day!  Oh deer, oh dear!

 

 

 

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