For at least twenty four years (as long as I've been alive) my Dad has held the belief that guns weren't necessarily bad, but he wanted nothing to do with them. My Mom held a more rigid view that gun ownership was a "warning sign" that someone may be dangerous. So growing up I had no guns, but we compromised on archery.
When I moved out I started exploring the shooting sports and bought guns for different occasions. Parents weren't thrilled, but weren't going to stop me. My brother moved out two weeks ago and now my parents have an empty nest. I had taught my brother to shoot and have taken him to the range on numerous occasions, it was our "brother hobby." (this is going somewhere, wait for it)
After a week of a silent house, my dad called me and said he couldn't live like that and he needed a hobby. Before I could offer, HE asked ME if I would take him shooting. Yep.
Took him to the range this weekend with a .22 rifle and a .45. I went over the basics and left him to shoot to his heart's content; apparently I didn't bring enough ammo (he blew through 250 rounds in an hour, with a bolt action .22, with only one magazine). He didn't care much for the .45, but loved that rifle. When we got back home I showed him this year's Savage catalog and he read almost every page, but at the end decided he wanted a .22 pistol, "...since we already have a .22 rifle." He wants to go again next weekend
And to top it off, my mom was looking over his shoulder at the Savage catalog when he came to the page with the pink rifle. He said to Mom, "Look honey, we could get a pink one for you," to which she replied (and I got a big kick out of this) "No, I don't want a pink rifle...I'd want a black one." She's coming next weekend
When I moved out I started exploring the shooting sports and bought guns for different occasions. Parents weren't thrilled, but weren't going to stop me. My brother moved out two weeks ago and now my parents have an empty nest. I had taught my brother to shoot and have taken him to the range on numerous occasions, it was our "brother hobby." (this is going somewhere, wait for it)
After a week of a silent house, my dad called me and said he couldn't live like that and he needed a hobby. Before I could offer, HE asked ME if I would take him shooting. Yep.
Took him to the range this weekend with a .22 rifle and a .45. I went over the basics and left him to shoot to his heart's content; apparently I didn't bring enough ammo (he blew through 250 rounds in an hour, with a bolt action .22, with only one magazine). He didn't care much for the .45, but loved that rifle. When we got back home I showed him this year's Savage catalog and he read almost every page, but at the end decided he wanted a .22 pistol, "...since we already have a .22 rifle." He wants to go again next weekend
And to top it off, my mom was looking over his shoulder at the Savage catalog when he came to the page with the pink rifle. He said to Mom, "Look honey, we could get a pink one for you," to which she replied (and I got a big kick out of this) "No, I don't want a pink rifle...I'd want a black one." She's coming next weekend