I called my Dad and asked him about the weird, elusive shed he built in our back yard inside the old dog kennel. Before I tell you what I learned, I have to give you a little back story.
I come from a family of hunters. They hunt everything ranging from cute fuzzy squirrels to big scary sharks. They kill stuff that they can mount on their walls, or in some cases, make a pretty lamp. I come from a long line of pragmatic people.
That’s a turtle shell lamp next to my poster of Einstein.
With all that said, the shed in the backyard is actually a big walk-in cooler for dead things. Most likely used for deer carcass.
When I was a young girl, I remember my Dad coming home from a hunting expedition and carrying inside the house a lifeless young buck he called Bambi. He hung Bambi up in our yard with his belly sliced open. He had me and my brother stand next to the bamboozled Bambi so we can get our picture taken with him. This was the routine every time Dad brought home a deer. He called it Bambi (and/or Bambi’s mother), hung it up and took our picture with it like it was a holiday photo with Santa or the Easter Bunny.
It was a proud moment for my Dad no matter how gross it was, it somehow made him happy. And so I was happy.
Me on the phone with my Dad – “But what about my name over the door? Why did you put my name on it?”
Dad – “I found that sign with your name on it mixed in with a bunch of garbage and thought it would look nice if I hung it up there.”
Me – “But why?”
Dad – “Decoration.”
My friends all seemed to think this whole event hilarious. Even after seeing the concerned look on my face, my worrisome expression before I dug around seeking answers of finding out the shed’s true identity – all anyone could do was laugh at my puzzlement.
Before I asked my Dad what was in the shed, I thought the worst. I thought it might be used for his own private man cave – well equipped with the most disgusting requirements to fulfill a man’s needs. Either that or a meat locker for humans that he accidentally mistaken for violent extraterrestrials or zombies.
My mind was getting more and more involved with these warped “what-if” scenario’s that I was far from seeing any comical side of this situation.
Lucky for me, my torment has ended. The shed’s uses are both practical and utilitarian. He hangs dead stuff in there. Nothing scary about that – nope. No sirree.
My friends certainly like to laugh in the face of my discomfort.
I was lost in Lisa’s condominium complex yesterday. I kept circling and circling, trying to find her condo. All I had to go on was a text Holly sent me telling me the house number, and that the outside light was on. Unfortunately many of the house numbers were worn down to resemble undecipherable Sanscrit. And more than one house was lit up.
Finally, I see Lisa outside getting something out of her car. She gives me a nonchalant wave. I roll down the window at her and say, “Lisa? I’ve been circling forever, I forgot what house was yours.”
She starts laughing and tell’s me it was the one with the light on.
I park and go inside.
Me – “I couldn’t find the condo, I kept circling.”
Holly – “Haven’t you been here like, ten times?”
Me – “Yeah but the condo’s all look the same and the number is worn away. I had to pee in the bushes!”
They laughed and laughed.