Eating whale gristle...

Last year was the first time my girls had seen me bring home doves and clean them. I talked them into watching. The first one was "ooohh, gross", but by the third and fourth it was, "I want to hold it." So... today I went out with some of my favorite bird slayers and we had a great one; despite the 100 degree temps. We all had a ball and blew through some shells. I couldn't wait for them to see the haul, even though it was getting close to bed time. On my way home I called my Dear Sweet Wife and let her know I was headed that way. This was the story as relayed to me:

Littlest blond child(LBC):"Where's Daddy?"  Mommy:"Oh, he went dove hunting? Or was it quail?" LBC: "Whale hunting?!? What are we going to do with that? Will it fit in the fridge?" Middle Blond child(MBC):"Ooohhh, whale guts. What's he going to do with those? What about the whale finger bones?" Oldest blond child(OBC): "Whale hunting! Can he do that?" Is the truck big enough?"  And so on, so forth. Dear Sweet Wife(DSW) said she didn't have the heart to correct the mistake; plus the conversation that it sparked was so good that she just let it go off on it's own. She said it was just way too funny to listen to them. That's what I love. It just never really entered their sweet, unadulterated minds that whale hunting was a little out of my league, and geography, to accomplish. I love the fact that they actually think enough of me that it really seems completely feasible.  I really hate to disappoint them in the morning; even with dove breasts wrapped in bacon. Well...there is that old steak in the freezer...