Remember How I Was Just Saying How Safe It Is To Visit Me?

My sister Jenny was almost talked into letting her kids (even the ones she likes) come to visit me during fair week this summer. Of course, she was in the process of setting some conditions and ground rules. I wasn't going to be allowed to take them to Shoshone Falls, to the river, or to the pool. And the fair food, rides, and animals bigger than a breadbox were going to be off limits. And they were going to have to wear helmets at all times, but still... they were going to get to visit.

Then Mikey, my second most babiest of brothers decided to visit my cute little valley so he could visit one of his cute little friends.

Mikey has been living with Jenny this summer, so she has kind of adopted into her sphere of psychotic worriness and expressed concerns about the possibility of Mikey participating in any normal southern Idaho pastimes (i.e. hiking, sugar beet harvesting, cliff jumping, bull riding, rattlesnake juggling, etc). Hence, Mikey became a very tall test case for a visit from Jenny's actual kids.


He had only been in my valley for about 19 hours, and only out of my sight for about two of those, when I jokingly sent him a text about Jenny putting his name on the temple prayer roll.

This is the text he sent me in reply:


I thought he was kidding.... until he walked back through my door several hours later with a head wound, which resulted in this text from Jenny:

Now, before this post goes any further, I think I need to make a few things clear. First of all, Mikey didn't get shot. Yes, he was injured by a gun, but not by the end of a gun that usually injures people. Secondly, he is fine... or at least as close to fine as he has ever been. And third, chronicling his adventure using nature photos was his idea, inspired by his great desire not to have me following him around taking photos. The decision to use photos of the animal he most closely resembles, however, was my idea.
Mikey's visit started out well and good and head injury-less. In fact, my biggest concern (up until his run-in with the gun) was that he was having trouble nesting on my couch that had turned out to be about a foot too short for his freakishly tall frame.

It may have taken him a while, but he finally found a comfortable position in which to snooze.

Of course, he didn't get a ton of time to sleep before I woke him up for a little 6 a.m. lap swimming. But he was a really good sport about the early hour, cold water, and the high rate of accidental consumption of drowned insects.

Luckily, he hadn't swallowed enough drowned bugs to effect his appetite because my dearest darling friends Bill, Valerie, and Spencer had prepared an amazing Brazilian lunch for us that afternoon (Thanks again, most wonderful Atkins family!).

Of course, while the swimming and the eating were wonderful, the purpose from Mikey's visit to my adopted homeland was to play basketball one last time with his friend Kari before she leaves for the MTC.

But before Mikey had a chance to show off his skills with a ball, he had to show off his lack of skills with a gun. Having forgotten that his only experience shooting was as a 14 year-old boys scout, Mikey was unprepared for the power of an actual gun. With his very first shot, Mikey's face became very well acquainted with the butt of the rifle, resulting in a broken pair of sunglasses, a large bruise, and three holes in his head.

I thought the situation was fairly entertaining and bolgworthy... until my valley's per capita gun ownership became the newest reason why my sister won't let her actual kids come hang out.

Thankfully, Mikey is going to come back up again about a month before the fair, giving me another chance to prove that visits to the Magic Valley don't have to end with blood and tears...

... as long as everyone follows Jenny's helmet rule, that is.