Taxidermy

Apparently, my kids don't get out much. Our weeks consist of preschool and several trips to church. Throw in a visit to WalMart and our week is complete.

What happens when you take a couple of cooped up kids to Cabela's for a few hours? They act like they've been blessed with a week a Disney World, that's what.

When we told The Rock Star that we were going to a store for the morning he moaned and groaned like we'd just told him he was about to have a root canal. We assured him that he'd like it. On our way down to Lehi, I glanced in the back seat and discovered that my kids, who were riding pretty silently, were holding hands. That was enough to make the entire adventure totally worth it. When we pulled up in front he declared, "Those benches are like Tahoe!" Instantly, he was sold. The very first thing he saw inside was an enormous tent. He darted inside. "This thing is huge! Can we buy it?"

We went through the aquarium and The Little Buddy started squealing and shouting, "Ish! Ish!"

We browsed the fishing supplies, hunting gear, camping equipment, and backpacking stuff. Garrett decided that, rather than buying actual bunk beds once his brother is big enough, he'd rather just have these...
We looked in the discount room. We looked at coolers, sleeping bags and adorable little camping chairs. The smells from the cafe taunted us. And, of course, we looked at all the taxidermy animals*. As we walked by all the different heads mounted to the wall, The Rock Star would say, "A dead moose. That's sad." Or, "A dead deer. Too bad."

After mounted fish after mounted game after mounted fox, he started to simply declare what it was. We walked through the different museum style rooms. "Ahh. A dead bear. And a dead mountain goat."
"Dead deer."
"Another dead bear."
"Two dead horses. Oh. Too bad." Then we rounded the corner.

"A dead camper," he said as a simple matter of fact. Then he paused. "Mommy? Is that a dead camper?"

Troy and I could simply not stifle our laughter. To think about Cabela's having a taxidermy human was just too much for me to handle. We quickly explained that it was just a statue which was really good timing because, just then, it started talking.

Altogether, we spent $2.29 cents total (on a baggie of orange slice candy and a hunting game) and had a blast with our kids. Even Matthew seemed to really enjoy himself.

There is no doubt in my mind that The Rock Star inherited my father's camping gene and The Little Buddy will do anything that his big brother is doing.

*This blog does not advocate or endorse hunting/taxidermy. I feel the need to state that, for the record. I wouldn't want animal rights activists to start boycotting.