Driving home from a great day with my sister-in-law and her family, The Hubbs and I considered our plans for the holiday weekend.

The Hubbs: So, what do you want to do the rest of the weekend?

Me: I don’t know.  Play some MarioKart

TH: Well, I was thinking that we could find a shooting range to go to.  You said you wanted to learn how to fire a gun.

Me: True.  Okay.  Arm me, baby!

My precious husband, the decorated boy scout, grew up around firearms.  I did not.  He knows how to properly handle different types of weapons except for ninja stars, to his dismay.  I know how to handle a nail file.  I had a few things to learn before going near anything with a trigger besides hairspray.

The Hubbs is always looking out for me.  He decided to do some quick reconnaissance work online.  He was able to find diagrams of a bolt-action rifle.  We reviewed the pictures and then he quizzed me.

TH: What’s this?

Me: The barrel.

TH: What comes out of it?

Me: Death Rockets! Okay. Bullets.

TH: Right.  What’s this?

Me: The magazine. (I prefer In Style.)

TH: Mmhm. How about this?

Me: Oh.  Uh. The hole where you can see a bullet if there were a bullet in there.

TH: What’s the name of the hole?

Me:  Pfffff

TH: No.  It’s called the “breech.”

Me: Well, close enough for government work. 

TH: And this?

Me: Kaleidoscope.

TH: That’s the “sight.”

Me: Yep.

TH: Where’s the safety?

Me: Outside of the shooting range in the car.

TH: Here.

Me: Yes.

TH: What pushes the cartridge into the barrel?

Me: The Thunder.

TH: The “bolt.”

Me: Well, okay, Technical Tony.

TH: What are the three things that you need in order to be properly “dressed” for range shooting?

Me:  Hmmmm. Bubble wrap, cowboy hat and orange wrist bands. Yeah?

TH: Safety Gear. Eye protection, ear protection and your wits.

Me: I have to wear my wits?  What if I just have them about me?  Is that the same?

TH: Yes.  Be aware at all times.

Me:  Maybe I’ll be a bear at all times. Hahahahahahhhmmm.

TH: The right to bear arms.

Both: (together arm in arm) HAHAHAHAHAHA.


Oh what clever cleavers we are.  I don’t know if I passed that quiz.  I couldn’t tell by looking at his face.  We did not end up going to the shooting range.  Apparently North Carolina actually cares whether or not you have participated in orientation classes and/or are part of a gun club.  Who knew?  The Hubbs was used to South Carolina gun control – or lack of control.  This coming from the man, who as a child, shot a dove on Christmas morning.  And, that’s a wholenuther story, ya’ll.


P.S. I’m going to be travelling the rest of this week, so don’t expect posts until next week.  I’ll be back blogging sooner than you’d like.