Confessionals

the first friday confessional: i shot the neighbor

That’s right.  You didn’t think I put this little rodent in a robe just for aesthetics, did you?  Of course not.  There’s a reason this blog moved to “Father Muskrat,” and it’s not just so I can get more validity as a Daddy Blogger.

So, from this point forward, if you have something you need to get off your chest, something you need to talk about, something you need to confess, feel free to share it with me for publication on Fridays.  You can do it anonymously or not.  Just use the “contact me” tab and put “confession” in the subject line.  Or, email me directly at muskratblog [at] gmail.com.  Whatever works.

I’ll go first.  My inspiration came while watching “A Christmas Story” tonight, as Tween asked if I had a BB gun as a child.  “I did until I shot the neighbor in the face with it” was my reply.  Here’s the back story:

I grew up next door to a kid named Matt Staracino.  Matt, my brother Kevin, and I would frequently spend weekends playing backyard football, baseball, lawn darts, etc.  One day, we got into an argument over whether I was safe at home plate.  Shouting began.  Then a couple pushes.  Matt picked up a baseball bat and came at me; I ran.  He followed, all the while yelling, “You pussy!  Where you going, pussy?” from the back yard.

I went into the garage, pulled out my Crosman pump-action BB gun, and pointed it right at Matt’s face.

“Who’s the pussy now, Matty?”

Matt dropped the bat and sprinted towards his house, screaming anti-Southern epithets the whole way (Matt had moved to Nashville from Chicago).  I pumped the gun 5 times, lead Matt by a foot or two, and squeezed the trigger.  Matt’s head went back and to the left.  His body followed.  He lay in the grass bleeding from a small hole just two inches below his right eye.

I apologized, and he actually refrained from telling his parents, so I didn’t get in trouble and lose my gun until months later, when my little brother tattled on me after an argument over family dinner.  And now, I’m sharing it with you.  Sorry Matt.  Bless me, Father.  See you next Friday.
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7 Comments

  1. Dang, remind me never to call you the P-Word!

    My husband, when he was a kid, hid in the bushes and shot people across the street waiting for the bus!! It just felt like ant bites on their legs, not too painful, but I thought that was pretty bad…

    Rhea’s last blog post..Let’s Trade

  2. The rule is that it’s all fun and games until somebody puts an eye out.

    You missed by two inches, so I think you should have gotten off on a technicality.

    It’s always nice to know that my my brothers and I weren’t the only ones doing really stupid things in our childhood…

    Theresa B’s last blog post..Reason #968 Why I Will Never Take a Job with On-call Shifts Again (*)

  3. TX Rhea, Is this a confession for next Friday by your hubby?

    TheresaB, Stupid? Stupid? Nothing stupid about defending oneself. 2nd Amendment, remember?

  4. avatgardener

    minor macho muskrat misses Matt’s macular muscle.

    minor in the underage meaning.

  5. Kindell Cornett

    OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO TALKING ABOUT MY BOYFRIEND!!!!!! I am going to show him this! What is your name?

  6. He will think that this is hilarious! I know I do!

  7. Pingback: what dogs have joined together, let no man put asunder | Father Muskrat

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