(before first field, father and son relieve selves by the side of the road)
Jack: I love peeing outside. Girls are really missing out.
Jack: There sure is a lot to think about before you pull the trigger.
Jack: Hey Dad, what's a radioactive isotope?
Scampwalker: Well, they're not good for you. I, um, well... I think they kill cells and stuff. To be honest, I don't really have a good answer.
Jack: That's ok Dad. I bet mom will know.
(While sitting on the tailgate, eating lunch)
Jack: Hey Dad? I know you're not supposed to shoot birds on the ground because there are other people and dogs around. But what if you are hunting alone and you don't have any dogs with you? Can you shoot birds on the ground then?
SW: Not really. It's not considered sporting or ethical.
Jack: I know that politicians make hunting laws, but who decides what's ethical?
GPS: Arriving at pheasant milo, on right.
Jack: Cool! It'll say the words that you type in?
SW: Yep. Don't ask me how, but she knows how to speak words.
Jack: Can we type in bad words and make her say them?
SW: Sure, go ahead.
(Juvenile snickering ensues from father and son alike)
SW: I've had a great time with you, Jack. I really enjoy hanging out with you, buddy.
Jack: Yeah, thanks. And it really doesn't matter that we didn't see anything, its just fun to be with you.
(SW covertly wipes tear from eye)
Jack: Hey Dad, now can we go shoot something?