Guns....

....a battle I can not win.

I am not wild about guns. I didn't grow up around them, didn't hunt, didn't feel the need to protect myself with deadly force, etc.. Then, I met Phil, who does like guns (ok, loves them). Our most heated "debate" (we really have never "fought") was over guns. This was something that I have learned to let go of. Phil is very responsible about guns and I trust his judgement plus he doesn't kill animals for the "fun" or the "sport" of a moving target, which is huge for me!

Then, I had a little boy. Who grew quickly into a Daddy's boy, a true boy, different from my girls in so many ways! He became obsessed with weaponry of all sorts, the instant he had the mind to do so. I do not pass the day (or the hour) without hearing a continual outpooring of shooting noises, see him carrying around a bow and arrow, a sword, a dagger, a shield, a gun, a lance, a whip, or anything else that could possible be weapon.

Auntie Tina found this pop gun at a garage sale and Sawyer was instantly was enamored with it.



Is an army crawl something on the Y chromosome?


Who taught this child how to do this?
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