When my very younger brother was little he thought slaughter day must be the coolest thing ever. He was probably 5 or 6 when Mom finally caved and told him he could watch us chop the heads off of the geese we were going to eat for Christmas. So we all go out to the barn. We grab the machete and catch us some geese. We lay the first goose out on the chopping and.... *whack!*
Unfortunately we had forgotten to sharpen the machete so the poor goose makes a horrible strangled gasping honk and it takes another whack to get the head off... My brother cried and never thought slaughter day was cool again. It couldn't have been a better lesson for my poor brother if we had staged it and the goose was tasty!
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