Thursday, September 11, 2008

Road Kill

It's been a while since I've posted -- bad, bad girl. I'll do better. I figured there wasn't anything interesting enough going on to write about. Then I showed up at a recent football practice.

I'm not really a football mom. I don't understand the game at all. I just know to cheer when my kid is running with the ball. That's the extent of my expertise. Which makes me the oddball when surrounded by other moms and dads who live to watch their babies kill each other on the field.

My kid hasn't been getting the ball a lot lately, so I've been doing a lot of people watching. And eavesdropping

So far, the best conversation I've overheard was a discussion between a player's older brother and one of his neighbors. The two were debating the best ways to skin roadkill (this, I learned, includes squirrels, raccoons, turtles -- just about any animal that crosses the road). The kid was bragging about how his dog had caught a squirrel the night before, except he didn't like the way his mom cooked it.

I'm not kidding.

"Sheet," the father offered. "Yer mom prolly dint skin it rat." He then proceeded to offer step-by-step advice on how to best prepare all manner of roadkill. "If yer huntin dog catches 'em, yer lucky. But you gotta git in the house and cut it up quick, before it spools. And you gotta make sure you use yer sharpest naf. It's reel good in a stew."

He didn't stop there. "If you kilt it, be careful for the bb's when yer cuttin it. You can't never pick 'em all out. Ma cuzzin broke his tooth out from not watchin' fer the bb's close enough."

On and on he went in glorious detail. I couldn't believe what I'd stumbled upon.

The hubby had warned me that we were moving to the sticks, but I had no idea our new home would be this....sticky.

We're still adjusting to the cultural isms of this place. It's different from anywhere else I've ever lived, and in a weird sort of way, the people are growing on me. Between football and the PTA, I've met all kinds of people. For the most part, they're nass. Reel nass.

But I'm going to be careful about accepting dinner invitations. With all of my new social obligations, I can't afford to lose a tooth.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

OMG that is so awesome! You must keep blogging about these things!

It sure makes vegetarianism a lot more appealing, doesn't it?

Scissor Girl said...

The accents are way too real. :)

Trixter said...

Late chiming in here, but this reminds me of this acquaintance of my husband's. He was this really scary old country guy, and he claimed that you could tell if road kill had gone off by wiggling the animal's limbs. If they weren't completely stiff (read: rigor mortis), he would take it home and cook it. Ewwwwwwwww