Why Is There A Dead Warthog In My Garage?
Published in Widowism by chefswidowThis morning in much anticipation I went out to my garage in search of holiday decorations. Today is our annual holiday family fun day which includes a trip to the valley to cut our tree down, hanging of the lights, cookie making, and an eggnog (& whisky for the big kids) tasting to finish off the day We are a bit late this year due to the Chef’s lack of days off but I let Catcher play hooky today and Biggie is back to her old smiling crazy pants self. Good to go.
Or so I thought,
Back to the garage…
I stepped into my super messy cluttered garage this morning to find myself face to face with this guy:
and then after further investigation I found this guy:
Ummmmm. Really Chef? Really?
Found items for The Greenhouse Tavern
Our garage had become the collecting ground for found items for the new restaurant. We have some pretty badass antique furnituyre, some floor stuff, a really coool mantle that I found at a garage sale…but we also have a rule. No scratch that. I have a rule. Wait for it. Wait for it.
NO DEAD ANIMALS ALLOWED IN THE GREENHOUSE TAVERN.
That’s it. That’s my only rule. The Chef can do anything else he wants. He can serve brain, he can make chicken feet, I don’t give a damn.
But taxidermy freaks me out. Big time. Not to mention birds, stuffed birds. Oh shit.
And after all of this, I have yet to find the Christmas lights…
Clap
I think that what you have there is a failure to communicate. Actually I think that what you have there is a Wild Boar not a warthog. But I’m not touching the point of what goes in the new place. Have a great day hunting down and killing the tree. And have an eggnog with the good stuff for me.
Holy crap! I would have freaked the shit out. That warthog is scary. Just tell Chef that hunting-lodge chic went out in the 80s
I think he cold pass on the dead animal chic. I’ll always remember my friend’s house. He dad was such a hunter and collector that I would have an asthma attack every time I stayed at her house for any length of time. Fur, dander, and dust….just say no, please.
Come on now….who doesn’t like going out to eat and looking up at a big beastly animal and then looking down on your plate of food and going, hmmmmm, wonder where they got the meat?!?! I kidd, I kidd…..
I think the hubby, son and I are going to have to do a weekend road trip this spring to Cleveland to see this up, close and personal….. it can’t be that far of a drive from St. Louis!!
Thanks Mr. Steve Smarty Pants! Wild boar, smchmild boar…
Jill- I know. I know. It must be a boy thing to want dead dusty things around you.
Daisy- For reals. Dander is just gross.
Jen- You come up here, we go down there- I’m in!
If he does still use the deer head he should also use my ex mother-in-law’s decorating touch and have framed photos of John Wayne and Ronald Regan with an American flag in between the dead animals.
I am glad you are standing your ground — taxidermy freaks me out too!!
OH MY HECK that warthog made me jump – and it was just a picture. I would have freaked!