11 year old bags 1,000 lb wild boar

According to this article in USA Today, this kid shot that boar while on a hunting trip.

“Jamison, who killed his first deer at age 5, was hunting with father Mike Stone and two guides in east Alabama on May 3 when he bagged Monster Pig. He said he shot the huge animal eight times with a .50-caliber revolver and chased it for three hours through hilly woods before finishing it off with a point-blank shot.”

Who takes their FIVE YEAR OLD hunting?? And what kindergartner shoots a deer?? Did he bring the mounted head into show and tell?
I can see the whole thing in my head: He’s wearing camo fatigues and a stained wife beater. His teacher looks nervous.

“I shot this here deer this weekend with my 30.06,” he says as he spits tobacco into an empty beer can. “I wanted to use the scope, but my pa said scopes are for sissies and Yanks, so I done did it without.”

Sad thing is, in Alabama he’d probably get extra credit for it. (Not for bringing the deer head in, but for shooting it without a scope.)

Isn’t there some law that says you have to be at least a teenager before you wield a gun that can kill a 1,000 pound boar? Apparently not in the South.

Einstein was right

As I bring my head up above ground I squint into the sunlight. What time is it? What day is it? Has the world ended? Planets collided? World peace been achieved? I have no idea. I’ve been busy keeping track of how often my kid poops, the color/consistency of said stool, and whether or not he peed too.

Then I change the diaper.

The last five days have been a complete blur. Honestly, most of the time I have no concept of date or time. The days flow together via a string of randomly placed half hour naps. AM? PM? Irrelevant. Breakfast? Dinner? Trivial. Time is no longer measured by the place of th sun in the Heavens. My universe now revolves around a new son (HA! Get it?? Yes. I’m tired.) and time is only relevant to when a diaper was changed in comparison to the next appointed feeding and whether or not there is enough space in there to sleep.

Suddenly, the theory of relativity makes sense. See? Kids make you smarter.

OK. Deep breath. Time to go back down into the word of diapers and crying and binkys and burping and the wonderful cuteness that is my son.

Being a dad is so awesome.

Thank you

Thank you so much for the wonderful comments. Your support and well-wishes have been very appreciated.

Oh yeah. I put some more pictures on my Picasa site. Click here for more pics of my extremely cute son.

Jake’s first pictures

More pics here.

3:28 – The Bun arrives

After just a half hour of pushing, our son arrived healthy, happy and big: 9 lbs 12 oz and 22 inches. (We suspect he’s actually longer than that and are waiting on a second opinion.)

My wife…my wife was amazing. I have never felt so much love for any one person. Whenever I looked at her my heart brimmed over with the deepest love and admiration. It literally overwhelmed me.

And then there were two people to share that love with.

I am truly blessed.

1:50 – Room prepped

A nurse tech, or CNA, or someone like that came and set up our room for delivery. Dilated to a nine. For those unfamiliar with the process, once she is a 10 that means “push”.

11:38 – Dilation update

4.5. The nurse thinks The Bun will arrive by mid-afternoon.

10:55 – Epidural in, husband out

It was time for the epidural. No point in enduring so much pain if you don’t have to, right?

Needles generally don’t bother me. However, the idea of shoving a 5″ needle into my wife’s spine makes me a little weak in the knees. I excused myself to the waiting room which was surprisingly crappy. Aside from the MASH reruns on the little TV there was nothing else to look at. No newspapers. No magazines. It could quite possibly be the worst waiting room I’ve ever been in. Good thing they don’t make the husbands wait in there anymore.

10:00 – Contractions start

Glad it’s not me.

9:18 – The dam bursts

They broke my wife’s water. Or, as medical professionals say, “The waters have been broken”. (Weirdos.)

With the petocin drip, it’s a waiting game now.

Time for a movie?