Oh, Deer

(My brother is 23 years older than me; I was a late arrival, so he was already grown by the time I came along. We didn’t grow up together but have always been close, and he always asks my opinion on things. On Christmas Day, when I am eleven years old, he brings his new girlfriend to eat lunch with our family. We have a tradition of eating my grandma’s special venison dish on Christmas. It’s always been one of my favorites.)

Girlfriend: “Thank you again for having me.” *to my grandma* “Everything is so delicious!”

Grandma: “We’re happy to have you, [Girlfriend]. Would you like some more venison?” *holds out the platter*

Girlfriend: *goes pale* “What? This… this is…”

Me: *helpfully* “It’s deer! Daddy hunted it himself!”

(She absolutely LOSES IT. She starts sobbing and retching and pushes her plate across the table.)

Girlfriend: “It’s Bambi! I can’t believe you fed me Bambi!”

(My brother is clearly embarrassed at this point, and doesn’t know what to do. I stand up and spear the rest of her venison off her plate.)

Me: “All gone!” *eats it*

(She calms down after a while and apologizes for flipping out, but my grandma is clearly not happy about the reaction to her dish. My brother takes me aside later.)

Brother: “So, what do you think of [Girlfriend]?”

Me: “She was nice, but I don’t think Grandma likes her anymore.”

Brother: “Yeah…”

(They didn’t date for long after that; they really weren’t very compatible. The next Christmas my brother brought a girl who loved venison and asked my grandma for her recipe!)