Wednesday, February 4, 2009

What We Miss.

The guys invited me over for drinks last night for a chance to say goodbye before I head home. We had some beers and the conversation turned to life back at home. Sometimes these kinds of conversations can focus on the negative, whether it’s about a wife, “How much are your ex-wives getting from your pension? My lawyer outsmarted the bitch and now she’s not getting anything hahaha!” or about children, “I told my 20 year old son to watch my house until I got back. After three months the place was so trashed that I’m going to have to sell the goddamn house. I was so mad when I found him I told him, ‘Give me one good reason I shouldn’t gut you and throw your worthless carcass in the river!’ But you know, I wasn’t really going to gut him.”

But last night, the talk turned to pets. “You wouldn’t believe how much money my wife spends on our cats. When I was growing up on the farm we used to have a whole bunch of cats that stayed out by the barn and caught mice. That was fine and that’s where they belonged. If there got to be too many cats I would head outside with my .22 and my dad would pay me a dollar a cat. Hell, by the end of the day I’d have a whole sack full of dead cats!”

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