The Gift of Guns & Gratitude

I guess that sentence has more weight then I intend, especially because it is a gift for my husband’s 40th birthday, coming up towards the end of the month.  But *I* had to fill out all the paperwork, the gun is registered in my name and the clerk made it very clear it was mine.  Yep, it’s mine.

But we got over it.  We talked.  We figured out which one to get and then the. paperwork. began.  LOTS of paperwork.  (By the way, when I mentioned maybe all this paperwork was a good thing this elderly gentleman raised his eyebrows at me and said “You and me are going to register our guns.  The criminals are not.  I’ll leave it at that.”  Truth.  I began to like him.)

As we were filling out all. that. paperwork. we had time to talk. Maybe he was still scoping me out and checking out my intentions but maybe not.  He was just a rough around the edges and I recognize it takes all kinds.  He wondered what my husband wanted a rifle for and I explained he’s ready to hunt.  He never has and his “midlife crisis” involves wanting to shoot a deer, make deer-jerky, venison stew, etc etc (Not so sure I’ll be a part of all that though, just thinking out loud.)  Then I candidly and without emphasis mentioned he was a soldier and so the gun-wish was no great surprise.  That stopped Mr. Crachety in his tracks.

“Ma’am, thank him for his service.”  A smile came across my face. “No really, please do.”
Just like that.