My dad always gave my sons underwear for Christmas. Two years after he died one of my sons told me that for the first time he finally had to buy some new underwear.We laughed together and reminessed about all the fun times we had together with Dad at the lease. Funny how simple things bring back great memories ain’t it? Like the time my Dad wanted to bow hunt with us but was too weak to pull back his bow anymore. I went and bought Dad a crossbow. I put him in a blind and cocked the crossbow for him. He couldn’t do it himself. I purposely took a stand close to where Dad was just in case he had a problem. A little while after daylight I heard a thump and heard Dad grunt “Got ammit.” He had forgot to flip the safety on and touched the trigger unknowingly. He got out of the stand quietly and walked back to the truck so as not to mess up anyone’s hunt.
Deer season always takes a toll on my sock inventory. You would think after all these years of hunting I would pack a roll of toilet paper. Never seem to make it back to the truck with both socks on.
Socks are always appreciated this time of year.
Hoggslayer
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