So I’m on my way to work and the phone rings – Kill Hannah – Lips Like Morphine – must be Jan. The tone of the voice on the other end of the line is accusing. Uh-oh.
“There’s a dead deer in the flowerbed.” Like I put it there or something. “You must have seen it when you left.”
“Ummm…guess I missed it.”
So the proper authorities were notified, the deer was disposed of, we kind of tried not to mention it in front of the boy and the daughter and actually succeeded for a few days. Then, of course, we mentioned it in passing.
The daughter was horrified, of course.
“A deer? Dead? What happened?”
The boy, his attention momentarily captured, looked up briefly from his book on the couch.
“Did Whiskers or Cory get it?”
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