Story

A story recounted to me by my son Luke:

As we sat on the grass in the backyard:

On a mellow summer evening:

Talking about his trip to Colorado:

And playing with his new puppy:

Rufus P. Gulliver:


Luke:   Oh, I killed a honey badger in Colorado.

Me:     You did!? Why did you kill a honey badger?

Luke:   They're mean.

Me:     But they're great. They're honey badgers.

Luke:   They're mean. This one, we ran over his hole and he came after us. He chased us for over 300 yards.

Me:     You were riding......

Luke:   Four wheelers. So, he's trying to bite our tires - he's keeping up with the four wheelers and all - and he won't give up. They're mean. We thought we'd lost him, but he cut through a pass and was waiting on the other side.

Me:     The other side of what?

Luke:   The other side.

Me:      Oh.

Luke:    So, I said to Robert, "Hand me that gun." It took two shots to bring him down.

Me:      They're very determined.

Luke:    They're really big. (He showed me with circled arms.)

Me:      Why didn't you just outrun him?

Luke:    He would have followed us back to the cabin.

Me:      Oh. (And gasp.)

Luke:    They will follow you back and try to kill your ass.

Me:      They kill people?!

Luke:    They kill three to four people a year in Colorado.

Me:       Luke! You're lying! You're making all this up!

Luke:    ::::::laughing::::::holding sides:::::

Me:       Luke, you're just like your grandfather.