I'm thinking that I need to have a category named "Kid's Toys that Can Double as Psychological Torture Devices."

Last Saturday Chuck took the boys down to Buda's brand-spanking-new-behemoth-outdoorsman's-stuff-mart, Cabela's.  The last time we were in Cabela's was 2 summers ago on our way back from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  We stopped at the one outside of Minneapolis.  We hadn't really planned to, but there was a tornado ripping through a near-by field and we just felt a little safer in a big, sturdy building.  Who'd 'o thunk, live in TX for 15 years, and then get caught in a Tornado in MN on vacation? 

I'm thinking that I need to have a category named "Kid's Toys that Can Double as Psychological Torture Devices."

Last Saturday Chuck took the boys down to Buda's brand-spanking-new-behemoth-outdoorsman's-stuff-mart, Cabela's.  The last time we were in Cabela's was 2 summers ago on our way back from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  We stopped at the one outside of Minneapolis.  We hadn't really planned to, but there was a tornado ripping through a near-by field and we just felt a little safer in a big, sturdy building.  Who'd 'o thunk, live in TX for 15 years, and then get caught in a Tornado in MN on vacation? 

Everyone in Cabela's was directed to the "bargain basement" until the danger passed.  Chuck tried on a Parka (yes, they were selling parkas in July) that was 2 sizes to small and through the fur edging that he had zipped around his face said, in his best Finnish-Eskimo-American accent "Hi, my name is Muttu.  Welcome to Minnesoda, eh?" 

Ethnic jesting is never really appreciated by the locals, and may be even riskier in an establishment that sells firearms.  Nobody laughed, so Chuck quickly removed the parka and returned it to its hanger.

Back to last Saturday, it was part of Cabela's grand opening event so the place was packed with people.  The only thing that had our boys' attention, though, was the pop guns they kept hearing.  Chuck was oblivious, dazed and drooling through endless isles of big man toys.

Chris and Alex were on hot pursuit, however, and never mind the 60,000 gallon aquarium or the stuffed exotic wildlife posed in reproductions of their natural habitats; it wasn't long before they found the pop gun display and begged Chuck to let them have what all the other kids in the store had.  How can you refuse your kids what every other kid has?  It's impossible, unless you've a heart of stone.

They arrived at home around the same time I did.  I had spent the day listening to a 7 1/2 hour taped lecture on "Creating the Balance" in your home-school life.   It was a great lecture, but by 2:30 PM I was finding it hard to keep from slipping out of my hard wooden stool/chair; I had given up on trying to keep my eyes open.  Not that it's a bad series, it's really very good, but on the can-you-stay-awake-for-more-than-seven-hours scale from "Radiative Processes in Astrophysics" to "Lord of the Rings," the lecture probably falls somewhere on the left side.

So I was glad to be home, my butt and back hurt, and I was hungry.  But the boys were full of energy and excited to demonstrate the stopping power of their new pop guns on Chris's collection of innocent stuffed animals.

They wanted to HUNT!  So I hid 25 of the animals around the house and said, "OK guys, there are 25 animals out there for you to find and Mr. Turtle is being held hostage, so be vewy, vewy quiet, and don't come get me until you've rounded up all 25.  Okay?"

"Let's go!"

POP! POP! POP! POP!

"I got one!"

POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!

"That's three!"

About 300 POPs later, "Mom, we only found 23, give us a hint."

POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!

"24!  Only 1 more!"

"I see him!"

"Let me get him!"

POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!

"Chriiiis!"   POP! POP! POP! POP!

"I already had him!"

"He was still alive!"

"Aleexxx, I had him!"

"Chriiiis, you don't know how to play!"

"Put your hands up or I'll shoot!"

POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!

Can somebody just shoot me, instead?