"Exactly what your father told me not to"

That was my response to the question: "What'd you get?"

The thing being referred to? The first deer I ever killed.

I had decided several months ago that I wanted to go hunting. 3 reasons for this:

1. I've become pretty close with 2 guys in my nieghborhood, both of whom hunt. A little male bonding in the woods is good.
2. I have acquired a taste for venison since we moved here.
3. I am a fan of Michael Pollan and the real food movement. We're members of our local CSA, we don't eat anything that has over 5 ingredients listed on the label, and the farther we can check out of the industrial food complex the better. 

Hence, going deer hunting makes sense to me. It's another Southern experience to write about.