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Boudreax anyone?

jeauxbertjjeauxbert Posts: 926
edited 06/11/2012 - 8:27 AM in Lighten and Brighten

My Uncle Boudreaux fancies himself to be one of the last great "hunterers/gatherers" of his generation. Two weeks ago, he killed himself a huge 10 pointer and brought it home for Clotille to cook.

Now, even though Uncle Boudreaux and Aunt Clotille love to eat some good venison (and who doesn't if it's cooked the right way?) but my cousins, T-Boo (short for Boudreaux Jr.) and Amalie are a bit more finicky.

Uncle Boudreaux and Aunt Clo decide they weren't going to tell my cousins what exactly they were eating, but decided to give them a clue and let them guess.

My cousins were "eager" (or curious) to know what the meat was on their plates, so they begged their dad for the clue.
Uncle Boudreaux said, "Well, I tell ya, it's what yo Momma call me sometimes".

It only took a second, but Amalie screamed to T-Boo

'Don't eat it, it's an a$$hole!..."

Kids sure do catch on quick these days! Yeah, you right!



  • my ancestry and my father were from Thibodeaux, LA. how about yours???
  • Thanks for the chuckle.
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  • My dad grew up in Arnaudville and played near the Teche river. He later moved to Bunkie and finally Breaux Bridge, LA. My mom grew up in the Cottonport/Bunkie area.

    My dad's ancestors came from Nova Scotia and settled in Acadiana. He is a cajun through and through. When he was in the third grade, he found a shotgun. He did not steal it - my dad would never ever stoop so low. He told his dad that if he let him quit school, and gave him some shells, he'd make sure there was always meat on the table (this would be in the 1930's). So, his dad let him quit school, got his shells for him and they always had meat. They grew their own fruit and veggies, had chickens, guinea's (I guess that's how you spell it - it's a bird at any rate), and never went hungry. If they couldn't grow it or feed it for nourishment, they didn't have it. He told me tells of killing "gro-becks" whatever the hell that is - I know it's a bird and that I can whistle like one (which impressed the hell out of him). He hunted and fished the Atchafalaya River/Sherbourne Wildlife Management area. He actually had a camp on the banks of the Atchafalaya; right next to a hunting club called "Whiskey Bay Hunting Club". I always got a kick out of that!

    Oh. I'm sorry. I gave way too much info. I am just proud as can be of my parents and how they raised us.

    Thibodaux, eh? That's a fun part of town on the other side of "the ditch". Shot pool in a few tournaments over there. Had a great time too!

  • hey, sorry next time pm me with info like that. my grandmother lived in new orleans. she was a bourgeois and was traded to a rich sugar plantation's adopted son for a cow!! but she was also nova scotian(?) i did some research. her husband couldn't speak french and that's all she spoke, so ho-hum he left her with 3 little babies (one of them my father) and she thus moved to new orleans. she hated him so much that she used her father's first name on all legal documents instead of his!! took me forever to figure that one out. she's been long gone (1971 i think). and i had gotten her roots back to the 1700's until katrina hit and took all my progress (computer) with it. however, i've started anew and hope for a prosperous ending. the adoptive parents' last name was penouihle--ever heard of that last name? i figure the mom and dad of my grandfather must have died or worked for them cause they had 3 of their own children and adopted 6 "Tenney" children. one of the adopted was 3 years younger than the mom of the household. got that from lds.org and the 1800 census.
    enough about me, next time i hear a good boudreaux i'll post ya. thanks for the laugh!!!
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