Not living up to my image

My granddaughter was playing with some little Playmobil dolls yesterday, in her dollhouse.   She handed me one doll and said, "this is the grandma."   Okay, I thought, that's me.    My ears perked up because one likes to know the word on the street, after all.    Then she handed me a second doll and said, "This is her husband.   He is a hunter.   He's a very nice man and the  children really like him."      Ya know, I would do anything in my power to make these kids happy.   But I've been single since 1987 and no hunters have been knocking at my door,  so this little idea might be out of reach.

[Oh yes, and a note to my granddaughter's fantasy man:   I do not approve of killing for sport.   So you'd better plan on eating whatever the heck it is that you're hunting!]

[And one more thing:  if you plan on turning up, you'd better hurry.   Daylight's burning!]