My spouse whisked me away to his quaint hometown to introduce me to his parents! The moment I laid eyes on his mother, I was utterly PETRIFIED—and what unfolded next left me completely STUNNED….

“George, why’s everyone in your family named William?” I asked, scooping up a bit of aspic. He grinned, leaning back in his chair.

“Simple, Emily! My granddad, my dad, and me—we’re all stonemasons, going back generations.”

“Only Billy here,” he nodded at his son, “decided to be a mechanic.” “Mechanics are needed too, Pops,” William cut in, winking at me.

“Is it hard to build a fireplace?” I pressed. George raised a finger, like a teacher.

“It’s an art, little lady! Gotta look good, not smoke, and bake pies just right!”

“Don’t let my scrawny look fool ya. Us redheads are tough, kissed by the sun!”

“George is handy as they come!” Clara bragged, propping her cheek on her hand. “Pops, tell us a story, we’re all ears!” William urged, pushing aside his empty plate.

George sighed, stroking his beard. He gave us a sly look.

“Alright, if you’re keen, listen up! Story number one.”

“We went haymaking one July. Had our cow Betsy then, remember, Clara?”

“Not a cow, a milk factory on stilts. Whole crew went: women, men, me and Clara.”

“Sun wasn’t even up, and we were mowing like nobody’s business. Swish-swish, swish-swish!”

“It was blistering hot that day. Horseflies bit like the devil.”

“That year, the woods were crawling with wild boars. So, come lunchtime, we’re all beat, seven kinds of sweaty.”

“We’d been at it for days. Everyone was worn out.”

“Quit it, you old fool! That’s a dumb story,” Clara interrupted, waving him off.

“Emily doesn’t care.” “I do, I really do!” I protested, scooting closer.

“So, I look at the crew and think: gotta shake ‘em up. Decided to pull a prank.”

“Maybe the heat got to me, who knows. I drop my scythe, run full tilt, and yell, ‘Yee-haw! Run for it! Boars!’”

“I leap onto a tree. Next thing, everyone’s tossing scythes, rakes, and climbing trees.”

“Ha! The men and women nearly thrashed me with their rakes after.”

“But get this—work went faster!” Clara couldn’t hold back, smacking George on the head: “You redheaded rascal!”

“Pops, tell us about real boars!” William said. “Alright, real ones it is.”

“Here’s how it went. Clara and I were young, not even thinking about Billy yet.”

“I was a big hunter back then. After this, I swore off hunting for good.”

“Light, fluffy snow fell that day. I tell Clara, ‘I’m going hunting.’”..