If you want to be close to the family you have to hear all of the crazy kid stories my parents just can't wait to embarrass me with. One night I crawled into bed with my parents, but the alarm clock going off in the morning scared me. So I hid it. I took my first plane ride when I was just a baby, and well, uh, babies just gotta go poo sometimes. A sip of my grandpa's Oly gave me the courage to walk. Oh, and what about that time my mom took a picture of me and my dad after a successful hunt, and later when I found the picture I decided to do a little hunting myself? Evil dead deer picture! Die!
A nice father and daughter photo with dead animals in the background is not viewed as at all strange in my family. Putting meat on the table for the rest of the year is an enormous, well-deserved celebration. We have several pictures with members of my family showing off their kills--one of my favorites is my brother, age 8, with a huge string of rainbow trout. So, it's not the content of the above picture that makes me wonder, it's the condition of the photo.
According to family story, when I saw the picture, I stabbed it repeatedly with a pencil. My mom says I did not like the picture. I can't help but wonder if the picture upset me so, how I must have enjoyed posing for it! Did I not like seeing so many dead animals? Did the violence perceived in my toddler mind deserve the death of the photo preserving it? Disturbing. As an adult I revel in the levels of morbidity this family photo contains.
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