Shhh....is that a Banjo I hear?!

The weather in Kingston is the closest thing to God I have ever experienced. Maybe this is the wrong comparison, considering God and I aren't exactly BFF's, but I think you catch my drift.

Every morning (around 10:3o suckas!) I wake up to glorious sunshine - the birds actually sing here! - smelling the most deeewishus dark- roast- liquid- crack you can imagine. If I wasn't so gimped out (and living with my parents) life would be perfect.

Yesterday was such a morning. I was sitting on the deck in my 'fleecy jams', coffee in hand, browsing the Telegraph Journal (I shit you not Tiff - it wasn't even the Horoscopes!) when I saw him.

Now before I continue, below is a brief run down on what you need to know (most of you know anyway, but for you huge creeps of course)

1. My parents are animal LOVERS
2. We are NOT a hunting family
3. My parents are NOT secretly Brother and Sister
4. My Mother HATES Squirrels.
5. My Mother HATES Squirrels because: "They poop all over the deck, eat all the cat food and tease the poooor dog" (Mmmhmmm)
6. My Mother, contrary to how it may seem, is very loving, kind and at least half sane.
7. My reckless (and sometimes violent) brother left his BeeBee Gun in my Fathers possession.

So anyway..."he" was standing right beside the BBQ. I smiled. I thought he was adorable. We might have even been flirting (it's been EIGHT weeks gimme a break) Unfortunately my mother saw him as she came out with a coffee re fill. Her gasp actually made me jump as she yelled for my Father. You would think this would startle the little guy. Had I known what was going to happen next I certainly would have made an effort. I look over and there is my Dad with the loaded Bee Bee Gun.

Me: (high pitch whisper/shock/I'm gonna piss my pants voice) "Holy Shit are you gonna shooooot him?!!" (I might also add we are NOT a swearing family)

Dad: (low whisper/strangely serious) "Don't Move Hale"

Oh -- BEST PART --He was telling me "not to move" because he had the FUCKING GUN stuck in between the bars on my WALKER (I swear to God, Jebus and Mary this is true) It's hard to explain, but lets just say that if I flinched (and of course this is LIKELY) my poor already mangled leg would have been in the line of fire. I plugged my ears and shut my eyes.

P O W !

Mom: (pure elation) " Gar, you got him, you got him!!!!!!"

I think I forgot to mention that this was on the back deck - We are about 20 feet off the ground. The poor thing literally BLEW off the edge plummeting to his bloody death.

Me: (high pitched squeal/still pissing my pants) "You really shot him?!, You just SHOT THE SQUIRREL?!"

Mom: (elation mixed with crazy?) "Good shot Gar!! Good riddance you dirty rat!!"

Me: (blinking) ...............

Dad scurried down to ensure the "dirty rat" was dead and not suffering (how kind) and Mom just filled my coffee cup, pretty much like nothing happened.

Just a regular day on the K-Penny.

I didn't post this yesterday because I thought it might be a bit... over the line? However, I couldn't help myself when this morning - again on the deck - my Father admitted he had a nightmare about the deceased squirrel (and he will never ever do that again) Besides the obvious hilarity that a 59 year old man is having nightmares about a defenceless squirrel, it made me realize that my brother may not have been adopted after all.

Dad: "Don't tell your brother I used his Bee Bee Gun"

Me: "Too late dude"

Dad: "Well don't tell anyone else OK?"

Me: "No worries, I love you even if you murdered a baby squirrel in Mom's honor"

Dad: "You, Haley Pale are quite a girl"