A few weeks ago, my grandfather, my dad, and I went turkey hunting. While my dad and grandpa went out into the woods, I naturally waited in the truck and read. It started to rain hard. I just read and read until it was lunch break. (MY FAVORITE TIME OF THE WHOLE TRIP!) My grandpa brings chips, candy, and other things I like to eat that I normally don't get at home. (My grandma packs it all.)
So we're in the middle of eating, and I here my dad whisper, "There are turkeys behind the trailer!" I of course yell, "Go get them!" That was followed by a few grumbles, grabbing of guns, and fast-walking. I sat in the bed of the truck eating Fig Newtons...
There's a story all by itself. My grandpa brought 14 bars. He ate two. My dad was fasting sugar so had none. I had the other 12. To make a long story short, I got accused, teased, and laughed at.
...Suddenly I heard an unexpected, BANG! It scared the life out of me. (I was sitting on the edge of the tuck bed at the time.) I fell over and landed on my head. (I was all right.)
My dad hit a turkey, but for some reason it just flew off. We tracked it, but couldn't find it anywhere.