You're a bad, bad man.

Yet another trip home to Texas this past weekend. Quite a few fun memories, starting with this one, courtesy of my precocious 9-year-old niece.

I'm at my oldest sister's house for a family barbecue. The whole gang is there -- rowdy niece, nephews and all. Talk starts up about a rabbit that's been hanging around in the backward. The little ones overhear and run out looking for the hoppity rascal. I quip, "Mmm ... if you catch it, we can eat it." (Maybe not the most child-friendly comment, but I'd just eaten some tasty tagliatelle with rabbit ragu the night before!)

This stops my niece in her tracks. She dons a look of disgust and asks, "You eat rabbits?"

By this time, I'm having a little fun with her. So I say, with a smile, "They're delicious!"

She dons a look of even greater disgust and tells me, "You're a bad, bad man." Then she pauses a bit before finishing things off: "That's why you don't get any dates."

I didn't quite follow the logic, and I questioned the accuracy of her information. But, really, there was nothing to do but laugh. I guess I'd better watch my diet if ever I'm going to settle down.