Just a little snicker, an anecdote for a tuesday morning.
I took the wife to the range yesterday, it's been a while since she's been able to go with me, so we brought all the newer handguns for her to play with, along with some old standbys.
She had a great time tearing up silhouettes, then went on to her *real* favorite thing at the range, punting golf balls around with the .22. I kinda farted around punching targets, mostly I was watching her having fun. After a while I got bored and deviated from my target to take a pop at one of her golf balls (about 50-60yds out at this point) with the older of my 686's. I figured she'd see the dust cloud in her scope and give me a dirty look.
Insert mental image of a golf ball taking a seven-iron ride over the berm here.
She looks at me... looks downrange.... looks at me again, and produces "the eyebrow".
I shrugged, smugly, and declared "victory is mine!", and proceeded to pack up my guns. Can't beat that, might as well quit while I'm ahead.
I took the wife to the range yesterday, it's been a while since she's been able to go with me, so we brought all the newer handguns for her to play with, along with some old standbys.
She had a great time tearing up silhouettes, then went on to her *real* favorite thing at the range, punting golf balls around with the .22. I kinda farted around punching targets, mostly I was watching her having fun. After a while I got bored and deviated from my target to take a pop at one of her golf balls (about 50-60yds out at this point) with the older of my 686's. I figured she'd see the dust cloud in her scope and give me a dirty look.
Insert mental image of a golf ball taking a seven-iron ride over the berm here.
She looks at me... looks downrange.... looks at me again, and produces "the eyebrow".
I shrugged, smugly, and declared "victory is mine!", and proceeded to pack up my guns. Can't beat that, might as well quit while I'm ahead.