There was a comment in my inbox this morning from my oldest daughter. She happened to read my Aug. 14th blog post that involved squirrel trauma. Since I have been considering writing about another recent interaction between a squirrel and one of my children, I'll take that email as a nudge to do so today.
When our children are small, we imagine all kinds of future scenarios for them. They put on shows in the living room, and you wonder if they'll be on stage. They are smart and good with animals, and you wonder if they might be a veterinarian. They're musical and you wonder if they'll be musicians. They love babies and directing a crowd, and you wonder if they'll be good parents, or teachers, or social workers. My oldest daughter, A, was all those things and more as a child.
She became many things that did not surprise me, and a few things that did. At almost 24 she is a compassionate, creative, thinking young woman -- singer, director, sushi waitress, studier of English and gender roles, babysitter extraordinaire, Americorps volunteer, public health educator, foster parent for dogs, and most recently...squirrel hunter.
Over Thanksgiving break we all got a pix message on our cell phones from A in Michigan. She and boyfriend R were dressed in full camo garb, ready to go squirrel hunting. The same daughter who was distraught over seeing a mouse in a trap a few years ago actually bagged a red squirrel and ate it in a stew. I won't share all the details of the hunt. She was a pretty good shot for a beginner, though she did have to climb a tree to retrieve her prey.
Who knew? One thing she has always been - game for a new experience. Maybe next time I hear from her she'll be going on a whaling expedition or building her own house. You just never know. Still, I'm not sure I'll ask her to take care of dinner next time she's home.
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