Spring time in Indiana is a welcomed season.
It's loved for it's warm sunny days,
beautiful spring blossoms,
Every March hunter's of morels
descend upon the woods.
Looking for this seasonal delicatessen.
I hunted them as a little girl,
but never ate them.
I haven't decided if I like them or not,
So, I don't hunt them now.
But my family does.
Then I have to cut them up,
throw em in some salt water,
let them soak for awhile,
and finally fry them up.
Or rather have my mother in law
do it. She's an awesome cook.
Now, even though I don't eat them.
I do appreciate them.
Mushroom season is short,
and people around here just can't seem
to get enough of them.
That's why when I came upon
this scene today I was horrified.
My sweet, innocent, unassuming boy
mutilating these mushrooms!
Now this is where I should tell you that
He had found them in the neighbors yard.
5 of them! They. Were. Huge!
Something menfolk around here
would have been talking
about for mushroom seasons to come.
I'm not sure if I was more mortified that
he'd taken them from the neighbors yard,
or if it was the way he was
mangling one in his hand and
tossed it carelessly through
the fence to the elk and deer.
It's the second time this year
he's found mushrooms there.
Last week he found 2 or 3.
I gave him a firm warning then.
But judging from his repeat performance
I should have followed it up with the stink eye.
Dad if you're reading this please
stop crying. He's young. There's still hope for him.
My son is a mushroom thief. And a mushroom mangler.
I wonder what kind of time he'd do if convicted?