At age 11-12 I, was given a single shot 12 ga. that my BIL didn't want. Mom throw a massive hissy fit, and he had to take it back. Just for the record she was already gone by then, and as far as I, was concerned she had no say in the matter.
Well this just brought up my Polish hard headedness up which ironically comes from her side of the family, and I, had the money for a Marlin Glenfield model 25 within a few months, and dad was more than happy to buy it for me.
Most likely to make mom mad.
While we were still in town I, was only allowed to take it out when we were going down the creek to a friends place where I, could shot.
Once we moved to the trailer court out of town, as long as the bolt's were open we could walk into the woods and shoot all day.
A memory just came to me. On Saturdays we would go into the wood's, hunt till we were to cold, then go to the little restaurant next to the trailer park, and drink coffee. The unloaded gun's sitting in the corner. We were 15-16 years old at the time, and nobody thought twice about it.