A few years ago, my husband and I went hiking in Yosemite National Park.
Everything was glorious.
What could ever go wrong here?
We were just happily traipsing along in the woods when, suddenly, danger struck.
Danger! Striking!
I froze.
My husband, however, continued to move towards that wild beast with his camera at the ready.
Work it girl!
Panic filled my entire being.
I had no choice but to whisper “psssst!” at him with a tone of dire urgency.
He did not respond.
He just kept on taking pictures
Terror filled my entire being.
I whisper-pssted louder.
He did not respond.
I channeled my inner Tami Taylor and whisper yelled: “Get over here!”
He gave me an annoyed look and continued creeping towards the ferocious beast.
I was then faced with an existential crisis.
I had said more times than I could count that I loved my husband so much that I would do anything for him. During drunken karaoke, I had publicly proclaimed that I would catch a grenade for him.
But I had never had to deliver on that promise.
Until now.
I had to decide whether I would take a charging deer hoof to the jugular for him. I broke out into a cold sweat. I frantically pondered what kind of person I wanted to be. I imagined my life without him. I imagined what death-by-deer felt like. I imagined death.
Before I knew it, I was racing towards my husband. I grabbed him and yanked him away from the deer.
After about one minute of that show, my husband wrenched himself free and asked: “What is wrong with you?”
I explained, triumphantly: “I saved your life! I sacrificed myself to save your life! I caught a grenade for you!”
He responded: “I repeat, what is wrong with you?”
I said: “I repeat, I saved your life!”
He scoffed: “From what? The wonder of nature?”
I responded, now questioning his mental capacity: “No! From the deer! Did you not see them? You were going to die!”
He questioned: “Yet again, what is wrong with you?”
I exclaimed: “What is wrong with me?! What is wrong with you?! The deer was going to attack you! When deer see people they charge towards them and trample them! You should never be outside with deer! How do you not know that? Didn’t you grow up in the country?”
He, between fits of laughter, exclaimed: “That would be amazing! If deer ran after you, that would make hunting so much easier. I could just go stand in the woods, give a yell, and we would have venison for dinner every night. Deer! Here deer! Come on over tasty little deer! Where did you get that idea from?”
I self-righteously lectured: “From my mother. All growing up she told me that I couldn’t play outside in the yard any time there might be deer around because they would attack and kill me. It’s real. First, they look at you, then they charge…”
Suddenly, all the pieces came together.
Deer do not attack and kill people. My mother just didn’t want to go outside 20 times a day with her 3 rowdy children, so she told us the tale of the killer deer. Once that tale of horror was seared into our little brains, she could shut down our never-ending whining about wanting to go outside when she was in the middle of something with a simple “not now, I just saw some deer.”
She probably assumed that her children were intelligent enough to figure out that the killer deer was a Santa Claus style farce by the time they reached double digits in age. That was a highly inaccurate assumption.
I still get credit for catching a grenade for my husband, right?
Stunted Adults 
April 7, 2013 at 11:50 AM
Oh, this is fantastic–I love your husband’s observation how it would make hunting much easier. And yes, you should definitely get credit as your intentions were nothing but noble.
April 14, 2013 at 10:26 PM
The only credit I’ve gotten so far is that, when I ask him to help me with dinner, he will STILL sometimes go into our [urban] backyard and yell “DEER! HERE DEER! I would like some venison chili please!”
April 18, 2013 at 4:44 PM
::dies::
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May 22, 2013 at 7:55 PM
I am so proud of you for admitting this. Not everyone is prepared to admit that they still believe Bambi is a vicious killer. Thanks for hooking up to the Hump Day Hook Up
May 22, 2013 at 10:58 PM
Thanks! When it comes to internet confessions, I have no shame. Also, someone needed to call my mother out for her hijinks!
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July 22, 2013 at 11:41 PM
My first fully formed memory is of my dad stopping for a motorcyclist who had crashed when a deer ran out in front of him . . . and said motorcyclist bleeding all over me in the front seat of our truck as we rushed him to the hospital. So, whatever the truth is here, I associate deer with blood and mayhem.
On another note, my main reaction to that video is (and always will be): Bruno Mars needs to get himself a truck. Get a truck, and watch out for those deer.
July 23, 2013 at 3:54 PM
Hahaha! I had never thought about it before, but you’re right. It is completely ridiculous that, in this day of the motorized vehicle, Bruno is pulling a piano through the city with a rope.
And I’m glad I’m not the only person who sees blood and mayhem, and not a lovely fairy tale scene of nature, when Bambi comes scampering across the yard.
July 23, 2013 at 6:50 AM
Haha, this really made me laugh. My Mom used to tell us tales of all kinds of dangerous things that turned out to not be so dangerous after all. I wish I remembered some of them!
July 23, 2013 at 3:57 PM
Thanks! The things our parents do to us…
July 23, 2013 at 8:38 AM
This was funny. and hmm…never come to Maine. We have deer all up in the hizzle around these parts. We see them constantly in our back yard, across the street, running through woods. Also lots of moose. I think the only thing that would scare a Mainer is coming across a black bear. Even then, we’d probably be okay with it.
July 23, 2013 at 4:01 PM
While not the woods of Maine, this killer deer tale was told to three kids who lived in a house in the deep woods in rural southern New England. There was also deer all up in that hizzle — a herd came into the yard almost every afternoon — which is what made my mom’s plan so evil yet brilliant. She could whip out the killer deer at any time and it was plausible, because those deer were always lurking out there.
I can’t even imagine the trauma her tales would have wrought on me had we lived in Maine and I could have been scared of deer, moose, bears, and Stephen King lurking in the backyard.
July 23, 2013 at 9:48 AM
Hilarious! Maybe I can tell my kids the same… Except the deer would be inside, so they actually pry themselves away from the TV and go outside.
July 23, 2013 at 4:16 PM
If there is one take-away lesson from my experience, it is that your kids will believe any nonsense that you say to them, especially if it has an element of imminent gore and death.
Maybe you could invent some kind of deathly spider infestation in your living room? That only occurs between the hours of 2 pm and 5 pm, because that’s when the spiders come out to feed on the blood of small children?
January 21, 2014 at 8:38 PM
Just catching up on your back posts and could not control my laughter at the killer deer. OMG – serious laughing out loud! Want some supper? – Here deer, deer, deer! I could not help but recall the killer rabbit scene in Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail. http://www.youtube.com/watch?list=RDxOrgLj9lOwk&v=XcxKIJTb3Hg -I think I recall you confessing to be a Catholic, so I have the perfect weapon for you to defend yourself from the killer deer – The Holy Hand-Grenade of Antioch. It worked quit well on the killer rabbit – from the same forest as the killer deer – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOrgLj9lOwk
Bwahahaha! Now rolling on the floor with laughter!
January 23, 2014 at 8:32 AM
The killer rabbit!! Why hadn’t I thought of that sooner?? That would have been the perfect defense for my belief in the killer deer!
I will never, ever live this story down.
January 23, 2014 at 5:02 PM
Don’t feel too bad – there have been rare cases of deer attacking humans. When it does happen, it is usually the male (buck) attacking during mating season (esp. if the human gets between him and his mate). The really dangerous ones are male moose (bull) during rutting season. They will attack anything that they feel is threatening them or challenging their territory. I trucked where moose are common , in the New England States and Eastern Canada, for years. I can recall having breafast at a truck stop in Bangor one clear fall morning when an eighteen-wheeler came into the lot on the end of a wrecker. The driver sitting at the next table was the owner from South Carolina. He had apparently encountered a bull moose in the road during the night and had blown his air horns and flashed his lights to get the moose to move off the road. The bull attacked and with his antlers, destroyed the front of the truck. The radiator and grill were beaten beyond recognition and even the windshields were smashed. The driver swore he was never coming north of Mass again. Monsters attacking in the night!
May 15, 2015 at 1:24 PM
I told my grandmother how you helped. She said, “bake them a cake!”