Before today, I had never fired a gun. Am I allowed to admit that? I was raised in the South, y’all. My daddy has guns. My momma has a gun. I grew up in a household where guns were just a part of life. My uncles hunted. And yet, I never fired a gun. I never experienced any personal tragedies related to guns…so I’m not really sure why I’ve never really liked guns.
Please understand, my lack of love for firearms does not equate to “take ’em away from everyone.” We have guns in our home…each one locked and safely secured. Mike hunts and has guns for self defense.
For nearly 20 years, I’ve joked with Mike, “I don’t need to learn to shoot your guns, I can just use the shotgun like a baseball bat and beat the crap out of someone with it.” For some reason, he doesn’t laugh.
Today, we had an afternoon date at the local state hunting lands. For the very first time, I learned to shoot a .22 rifle, a .22 revolver and a .38 revolver. No one and nothing was harmed in this learning endeavor.
Full disclosure, I’m not a fan of being around when other people are firing guns. Ok, more specifically, strangers. It freaks me out to hear guns going off. Freaks. Me. Out. I actually started tearing up at one point because I just hated hearing the guns going off and not knowing who or what. But, I did want to learn how to shoot…so this buttercup just sucked it up.
I hit the target at least once with each gun. Well, I hit the target paper. Not necessarily the “target” portion of the paper, but I still hit the paper 🙂
Do I have a desire to go back and shoot again? Only as a chance to spend time with Mike. Am I one step closer to being a firearm enthusiast? Nope. Pretty sure that will never, ever happen.