Well, some lady finally blew the whistle.
I guess it was only a matter of time before it was revealed. And like everything else, what is once seen cannot be unseen. But, before I continue this tale let it first be known that many a generation has held this sacred secret within the tribe of females. It took some young blond bombshell barely in her 20's to climb up on a four wheeler and belt out this revelation.
My husband came home this weekend and asked me to get out my cell phone and look up a new song. Of course, it was one of those Tik Tok creations some girl likely filmed in her family's cow pasture. The girl's name was Mackenzie Carpenter and the title of the song was "I Love Hunting Season."
And here we go. Each line and stanza spelled out the one chunk of leverage every woman in the south possess when this time of year rolls around.
That's right. The deer fever hits and out the door the men fly wearing unscented camo and doused with doe urine. We ladies make a passing comment later that evening, "Wow, you didn't even say goodbye." And the husband, feeling a bit bad about this now that he has returned and the fever has abated, takes out the garbage without even being asked. That's right, because he feels a little guilty for having so much fun hunting.
And when they are packing up the pick-up to head out for the long-distance hunt, we women sulk a bit and make comments about how quiet the house is going to be and how come this summer we will be hitting the beach with our girlfriends, and he will see how lonely it gets. They nod as they continue to toss the water bottles and extra bullets in the back of the truck. And when the time comes, they put the money in our account for us to pay on the summer beach condo.
We even roll our eyes when they show us black and white pictures their camera took deep in the woods while mounted on an oak tree. We say, "That huge thing isn't hanging in my living room." We grumble about how the processing of the deer meat costs more than if we just went out and bought a whole cow at the store. We even write columns about it for the newspaper that makes both men and women laugh.
We refer to the deer stands as their grown up treehouses, and we milk the season from start to finish because our mothers and grandmothers trained us well. They taught us lines like, "Rather they hunt deer than something else." Or "I'm a hunting widow, but it is a good stress reliever for the husband."
So, as I sat on our back patio watching this adorable dimwitted blond dance around on a four wheeler telling the whole country how we women love deer season because we don't have to put down the toilet seat even once and we have total ownership of the flat screen TV, and we actually pray they don't tag out early because the newfound freedom their preoccupation with lots of horns has offered us is priceless, I looked up at my husband who was grinning from ear to ear because my game was up.
I can only hope this girl's mama gets a hold of her and lets her know how her cute little song has sat back womankind in the south by decades. But that is ok because I'm sure some guy will be climbing up on his bass boat soon to film a tik tok about how he sure loves his wife's beach season! It works both ways.
