fuzzy bunny

There was a dead rabbit in front of our driveway the other day (and when I say dead, I mean obviously dead like his insides were smushed outside of him - sorry if I made you throw up a little in your mouth, but it's details that make stories interesting, right?). Now when I was a little girl, if we saw a dead animal on the road, you drove around it and kept going, but I lived in the country with 20 acres of woods and a huge a$$ satellite dish to keep me company. We do *not* presently live in the country, (in fact, we are only three blocks away from a Walgreens, thank you very much!) so I'm left to devise what to do with our newly dead animal.

I opened up the garage and headed over to our bucket of shovels. I grabbed the garden shovel and brought it over to the deceased. I attempted to scoop up the carcass, but he was just too, well... spread out. His whole body just would flop back onto the cement every time I attempted to scoop him up.

So I headed back to garage for larger artillery. I picked the snow shovel (for you people in the South you suck you may have no idea what a show shovel looks like, but it's about 18" across and ours has this ergonomic handle so you can really heap on the snow (err, rabbit) without straining your back).

On my first attempt; I scooped the rabbit up, walked/ran with him in my snow shovel and threw him way under this hundred year old pine tree in our front yard. (I know, maybe you would have thrown him in a garbage bag, but that just wasn't happening and I figured it's an out-of-sight, out-of-mind kind of thing). I turned around to grab the hose and wash all the evidence of the bloody scene away when I saw Wyatt standing there in the middle of our driveway.

"Look Mommy, I'm catching fuzzies in the air".

Umm, yeah, those were fuzzy (dead) bunny hairs he was catching in the air.

*

My kid grosses me out too.