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Tala · 04-08-2005, 10:15 AM

My daddy had an interesting way of teaching us kids gun safety. For our sixth birthdays, my brothers and I were allowed to shoot daddy's gun.

Daddy's gun of choice for this little exercise was a 12 gauge shotgun. He would take out to the hayfield where there was nothing to shoot but haybales, show us the bale, hand us the shotgun, help us to position it and tell us, "Wait until I get behind you...Now shoot that bale of hay down there."

Anyone ever felt the kick of a 12 gauge? To a six year old who weighs maybe 50 pounds, it's like getting kicked in the shoulder by a mule. I was flat on the ground anout three feet away from where I had started, and there's my daddy, grinning at me, holding the gun in his hand. I remember he cleared it, (unloaded it), then checked my shoulder, which was going to be bruised. (Now that I think about it, I bet he wanted it bruised)

"Hurt?"

"uh huh" *sniffle*

"Guess this ain't something you want to play with, then?"

"No way!"

"Good, then you'll keep your hands off it. Don't ever touch it, don't even think about it. We'll find you a toy that you like, how's that?"

"Okay Daddy"

Not a one of us kids EVER touched that gun again. Matter of fact, the only guns we ever touched were the ones that Daddy taught us to shoot with, and that took a lot of convincing on his part.

04-08-2005, 10:15 AM
Tala Fucked if I know Join Date: Dec 2002 Location: Do you have a flag? Posts: 23,368	My daddy had an interesting way of teaching us kids gun safety. For our sixth birthdays, my brothers and I were allowed to shoot daddy's gun. Daddy's gun of choice for this little exercise was a 12 gauge shotgun. He would take out to the hayfield where there was nothing to shoot but haybales, show us the bale, hand us the shotgun, help us to position it and tell us, "Wait until I get behind you...Now shoot that bale of hay down there." Anyone ever felt the kick of a 12 gauge? To a six year old who weighs maybe 50 pounds, it's like getting kicked in the shoulder by a mule. I was flat on the ground anout three feet away from where I had started, and there's my daddy, grinning at me, holding the gun in his hand. I remember he cleared it, (unloaded it), then checked my shoulder, which was going to be bruised. (Now that I think about it, I bet he wanted it bruised) "Hurt?" "uh huh" sniffle "Guess this ain't something you want to play with, then?" "No way!" "Good, then you'll keep your hands off it. Don't ever touch it, don't even think about it. We'll find you a toy that you like, how's that?" "Okay Daddy" Not a one of us kids EVER touched that gun again. Matter of fact, the only guns we ever touched were the ones that Daddy taught us to shoot with, and that took a lot of convincing on his part. __________________ ICQ: 11120676 \| Google: mindcrime \| Skype: suitemindcrime\|E-Mail: mindcrime AT gmail.com\|PR girl with great writing skills for hire!!!! Contact me to work for YOU!\|TECHIEMEDIA? 24/7 support from some of the best techs in the biz. Tell Jim that I sent you.