Thanks for all of the great reviews. I really appreciate each and every one of them.

I don't own Bones.

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Booth had been gone all afternoon with Brennan. They had gone to check up on Pops and had ended up staying longer than they had expected. Parker had agreed to stay home and baby sit his younger siblings with promises of money and driving lessons being made.

Arriving at home, Booth had walked around to the back yard to see if his kids were playing there. Brennan, expecting a new journal to arrive that day, walked out to the mail box to check and see if it had arrived.

Booth finding the back yard empty opened the back door and walked into the kitchen.

Walking towards the fridge to get a drink, Booth's eyes were drawn to the island.

Puzzled, Booth walked over to the island and lifted the towel resting there. Swallowing, Booth dropped the towel.

Striding over to the kitchen doorway, Booth shouted, "Parker where the Hell are you? What the Hell is going on?"

Parker, racing down the staircase, ran towards the kitchen. Seeing his father standing in the kitchen doorway blocking his entrance, Parker skidded to a stop.

"Uh, I thought you were going to be gone for another hour or so."

Sighing, Booth turned and pointed to the kitchen island, "What is that and where are your brothers and sister?"

Rubbing his mouth, Parker said, "Well, first off the kids are upstairs finger painting. Second . . . yeah, well, about that . . . well you see the kids found it in the backyard after lunch and they wanted to know what happened to it; so, I didn't see any harm so we kind of . . . well, we did an necropsy. A necropsy is a . . ."

Holding up his right hand, Booth explained, "I know what a necropsy is, Parker. Why the Hell did you do one in the kitchen of all places and why on the island? We eat there. We cut up stuff to cook with there. I mean, God Parker, did you really have to do that there?"

Brennan walking into the living room from the front doorway, stopped and asked, "Did he really have to do what where?"

Pursing his lips, Booth pointed over his shoulder and replied, "Why don't you go and look at what's on the island. It'll be self explanatory."

Puzzled, Brennan walked past Booth as he stood sideways for her to pass into the kitchen. Seeing the towel on the island, Brennan walked over to the island and lifted it. Surprised, Brennan asked, "Where did you find it? I hope you didn't kill it just so you could do a necropsy."

Appalled, Parker protested, "God no. I'd never do that. The kids found it in the back yard near the bushes. They were curious and wanted to know if we could tell how it died; so, I told them it would be ok to do a necropsy. Of course, I didn't let them use a knife. I did all of the cutting."

Shaking his head, Booth faced Parker again and put his hands on his hips, "Ok, whatever. You get in there and get rid of it. I mean out of the house. Then you had better make sure you wash that island, use disinfectant and then mop the floor and throw away the knife you used because there is no way in Hell I want that knife to touch anything that is going into my stomach."

Holding his hands out, Parker pleaded, "Oh come on Dad. You don't really want me to throw away a perfectly good knife do you?"

Folding his arms across his chest, Booth replied, "Do you see my face? Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Swallowing, Parker squeezed by Booth and walked into the kitchen to clean up the mess.

Brennan amused that Booth was going over the top, walked over to the doorway and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me I'd like to get by."

Moving back out of the way, Booth walked over to the living room couch and sat down. Furious, Booth put his right ankle on his left knee and wiggled his right foot. Breathing a little deeply, Booth tried to calm down. "A skunk, a damn skunk" Booth thought over and over.

Brennan, recognizing Booth's uncompromising mood, walked upstairs to check on their children.

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Two days later, Booth walked into the house carrying a manila envelope. Finding all of his kids in the kitchen helping Brennan prepare dinner, Booth walked over to Parker and handed him the envelope.

Parker rolling his eyes, exclaimed, "Oh come on Dad, Really?"

Staring at Parker, Booth stood his ground and waited.

Sighing, Parker opened the envelope and took out the letter. Rolling his eyes at his father again, Parker read, "Eleven. You cannot do a necropsy of dead animals or anything else in the kitchen."

Hank, curious turned to his mother, "What's a necropsy, Mommy?"

Smiling, Brennan responded, "A necropsy is an autopsy done on animals."

Frowning, Hank asked, "Huh?"

Turing to his small son, Booth explained, "Remember on Sunday when Parker cut up the skunk for you. Well when you cut up an animal to see why it died, that is called a necropsy."

Rubbing the side of his head, Hank replied, "Ok. How come we can't do a necropsy in the kitchen?"

Laughing, Parker responded, "Because Dad doesn't like to see dead things."

Joseph, scratching his head, looked at this father.

Booth, holding up his hand, looked at Parker, "I think you forget what I do for a living Buddy. I've seen stuff that would make you . . ."

Seeing his smaller children listening avidly, Booth changed directions, "Uh . . . Bones, tell them why they can't bring any more dead animals into the house."

Sighing, Brennan looked at Parker and her smaller children and explained, "We're a vegetarian household; so, no more dead animals will brought into the house."

Stunned, Booth exclaimed, "What? . . . Wait . . . What?"

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Rule 11 is now in the book. Love it, hate it, don't care?