Saturday, July 23, 2011

Hit. Wham. Gross.

The title for this post was my brother's idea. 

I awoke to my older sister yelling at me to get up because the tornado alarm had gone off in town.  I moaned and rolled out of bed.  It was five in the morning. 

My mom gets paranoid easily, so just imagine what she's like in the basement with tornado sirens blowing in town.  I had gone to bed at 1:30, so getting woken up at 5:00 wasn't thrilling.  I only got three and a half hours of sleep. 

"Mom, can I go upstairs and get my laptop?"  My older sister asked. 

"No way!  What if the tornado came right while you were upstairs!"  Mom yelled. 

"It won't be your fault if I die mom."  My sister said. 

Finally my mom went upstairs to help the twins go to the bathroom, and while she was gone my little brother sneaked past "hawk eye" (mom) and grabbed my older sister's laptop.  At the same time, I grabbed some pop tarts because I was starving. 

Eventually the warning ended with no tornado.  Shocking.  That was worth getting up at 5:00 in the morning for. 

My little brother (the one who likes chickens) my dad and the neighbor boy just got home from fishing and my little brother caught a good size northern.  It was 2 ft. 4 in. long.  Which puts dad in second place for the biggest fish. 

My dad was going to just chop off it's head while it was still alive, but me and mom thought that was just cruel.  Mom suggested that he hit it on the head with a hammer, I'm really not sure which way is more humane.  What do you think?  Hammer or Knife? 

"I hereby sentence you Mr. Fish to the electric chair where you will be electrocuted until proven dead."  My dad said sarcastically. 

Wow.  I'm definitely adopted. 

In the end dad hit the poor fish over the head several times with the end of his knife, then proceeded to cut his throat.  Here is a picture of my little brother holding his northern head.  Yuck. 




After I was done taking these pictures (which are terrible, I know) my little brother started chasing me around the house with bloody fish gut fingers...it was really gross, and he actually touched my arm, so I washed it really good with lots of soap...I'm not grossed out about fish guts...I mean, I can look at fish guts and be o.k., just so long as they don't touch me or anything on me, we're good. 

Well, mom is giving me the look which means "you'd better get in bed right now or the boy's dirty laundry is yours tomorrow.  Until tomorrow then. 

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