I think my dad wanted me to be a boy. One word: Hunting.
I went with my dad on so many hunting trips. As I got older the only reason I went was for the hiking, which I love, and the company of my dad. It was something we did together. I prayed that Bambi and his friends would be nowhere in the vicinity of my dad and his rifle. I have so many hunting stories. Some of them fun. Some sad. Some that scared me senseless. I loved it when we would get to the top of the mountain and I could look around. So beautiful!
Fall was my favorite time to go. One of the guys my dad went with had a couple of girls around my age. They would send us down into the brush to scare out any deer that might be there. We would literally slide down the mountain side in a bed of leaves. It was a blast! Those where the good times.
Hunting made me hate guns. They scare me. I often wondered why I kept going. Simple, really. That was just how much I wanted to be with my dad. Even if it was doing something with him that I didn't care for.
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