My Daddy done taught me how to shoot.
Actually, that’s only half true. Nearly 10 years ago I took a firearms class as a phys ed in college. My daddy taught me a few things on his ‘49 Mossberg & Sons 10/22 recently, so I’m not completely clueless.
Last year, for my birthday, I was *supposed* to go shooting with my friend Scott (who happens know his way around a socom and is also a member at a firing range up north). As I was well into my pregnancy at the time, there was just no way I could go — I mean, between the sound assault and the possibility of being in contact with harmful lead — just too dangerous for a wee fetus.
This birthday, a year and a week in the making — I went shooting. It was a little intimidating as I’m not generally around a whole lot of firearms, plus all the DUDES there with their various handguns and bear-hunting rifles…it was a lot to take in. Here’s to you Scott. Thanks for taking this chick to the firing range for her birthday. WHEEEEHAW!!!
And I’m taping this to my back door, lest anyone have any questions of my deadly accuracy:
