Shot My Hat Off My Head with A Shotgun

One of the most interesting dates my first wife, Carol, and I ever had involved my sister Connie and Mike (someone I lined her up with), and my good friend Bill. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and we got this crazy idea to go rabbit hunting. This would be my first attempt at rabbit hunting, but I think the two other guys had both been before. Let me say that it was an interesting experience. I was wearing a felt hillbilly hat that I got from some carnival, and I wore that thing everywhere. 

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We had no idea where the rabbits lived, and we thought it wouldn’t be hard to find a place so we just drove around until we found a place that looked like it could be a rabbit community. Unfortunately, the place we chose was a place where no respectable rabbit (even unrespectful ones) wanted to live, so we found another way to make the date enjoyable (at least for the two other guys). Connie’s date stole my hat, threw it in a tree, and started shooting at it with his .22 rifle. I was somewhat relieved that he couldn’t hit a tree while he was leaning against it, so I felt that there was some hope that my beautiful hat would be safe. To my utter dismay, however, Bill (my supposedly good friend) came along and said, “no problem, I can get it!” Then he shot and didn’t miss and blew it out of the tree, with his shotgun. 

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Needless to say, I was not pleased so while we were driving home, I kept thinking about what I could do to get even with my good buddy Bill. By the time I pulled up to the house I had a plan. As soon as the car stopped, I jumped out and ran into the house wearing what was left of my beautiful hat. My Mom was working in the kitchen and when she turned and saw my hat she immediately panicked and asked with fear in her voice, “What happened?”

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That was just what I was waiting to hear, and I answered, “That stupid Bill blew it off my head with his shotgun.” The trap had been set. I saw it in her eyes. The defensive Mom was ready to rip heads, and I knew it wouldn’t be mine. 

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Bill came walking in the house with Carol and Mom saw him and her anger came rushing out of her mouth and straight at him. She was doing what most moms would do if they wanted to protect their kid. Bill just stood there stupefied with his mouth wide open, not knowing what he had done. I was sitting in the other room laughing so hard my belly hurt.

Finally, Carol figured out what was going on, and she politely explained what really happened. Mom felt silly, apologized to Bill, and then started laughing uncontrollably. At that point I knew I had gotten even with Bill, and that it was safe for me to go back into the kitchen where all the action was.

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Before I had walked into the house and gotten mom all stirred up, I knew exactly how she would react and that she would end up laughing at the joke I played on her and Bill. I have always appreciated the relationship Mom had with our friends. Our friends came to our house because it was a house of safety, a house of laughter, a house of love, a house of kindness, a house of peace, a house of fun.

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Our house was a home patterned after Mom’s beliefs, strengths and personality. As parents we should work hard to make our home a place where our children can enjoy having friends visit and the friends knowing it is a safe place.



Happy Failing Forward,


Calvert Cazier PhD, MPH


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