What happened was I shot a bird. I was pretending and my fantasies were varied. I was leading a reconnaissance mission and had basically a whole other unit coming for support to outflank the enemy. I heard movement and crouched down and with my pellet rifle I shot the bird but I didn’t mean to hit him. I shot him and he went off, wounded. I didn’t want to tell daddy but I knew I had to. He’d find out about the bird one way or another. He’d go out tagging trees and see its body lying there dead. Or one of his friends would go out there to build a deer stand and he’d see the dead bird and bring it back to the house and hold it up by its feet and look at my dad and we’d all be standing in the carport and my dad would look at me and say, “Wonder how that bird got hurt?” So it was best to just tell him as soon as he got home.