We're not sure why, but things tend to get a little rednecky in our family whenever I find myself really knocked up. ("Really knocked up" is the official redneck term for any pregnancy greater than 32 weeks or so.)
Abby and Caleb have both had the benefit of front row seats in utero for the official Fisher Family BB Gun Backyard Marksmanship Competition, and Jacob has participated in his fair share of barefoot fishing in the creek near our house or in Nana and G-Daddy's cove.
But I think we may have outdone ourselves this time. We're not sure what the neighbors think of Justin's homemade squirrel trap or the catch-and-release going on in our backyard, but we also don't care. Hopefully they're just rolling their eyes and reminding themselves that we're that family from Georgia.
The kids are loving it, and that's what counts.
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