Today was a long but uneventful day. It started off as Troy and I trudged through a field, in the darkness, setting up nearly five-dozen decoys in preparation for a Goose Hunt. We settled into our blinds in time to watch the sun light up the sky and sat for nearly four hours. The few geese that we saw were far out and not even the slightest bit interested in our calls.
After packing up the decoys we headed out for a little pheasant hunting. This was also a bust but we were able to check out a few spots for late season deer hunting (archery) and a potential duck hunting spot. A few hours passed before we decided to call it a day and headed back to our vehicles.
After returning home, I flopped down onto the sofa and began to relax. My wife sat down beside me, as our daughter played, and asked me how the Goose Hunt went. I explained that it was another bust and the only geese we saw were way out in the distance. I handed her my phone and she began flipping through some of the random photos I took.
My wife asked why Troy and I didn’t just get up and sneak up on the geese, in the distance, and I went on to explain how we were hunting from ground blinds with decoys setup all around us. All the while, our daughter was listening to my story.
Out of the blue, our daughter stops playing and looked at me thoughtfully. She said “Daddy, you just gotta do it like this” and proceeded to grab an empty laundry basket, turn it over on herself, and hide under it. After a few seconds she jumped up, ran to me, grabbed me and yelled “Daddy, I got a goose!”
My wife and I laughed and I told our daughter that we didn’t catch geese that way, we used a shotgun. Our daughter said “Oh” then jumped back under the laundry basket for another try. I hopped off of the sofa, flapped my arms, and ran around the living rooms making imitation goose honks.
This time our daughter threw away the laundry basket, hopped up, pointed at me and shouted “Ssssshotgun!”. My wife and I exploded with laughter and I cried out “You got the goose!”. Our daughter beamed with pride, hopped back under the laundry basket, and wanted to do it all over again. We repeated the process about a dozen times, laughing every time our daughter shouted “Ssssshotgun!”