Joined
·
2,382 Posts
I was raised around firearms, my Dad was a LEO as where all my "Uncles" and my Grandparent owned a gun store and where constantly on the road going to gun shows. A little history to set the mood.
In my Tenth year on Christmas my Grandparents came over and had a box five foot in length. My grandfather gave me a wink, letting me know this was mine. I was excited as big boxes were a rarity from grandparents, they liked to give me socks and underwear, but this time is was something different (a rubber band gun if you don't know where this is headed due to the title).
We got done with dinner and I anxiously awaited the box, being forced to open the lesser presents first, each with an exasperated sense of disappointment as they were socks and under wear.
Then came the big box, I tore that thing open like a ... like a... I got nothing but it was quick and lo and behold a five M16 rubber band gun that held 25 shots at one time. It had one of those spinning wheels that allowed multiple bands and it came with a "going to hurt someone" quality of rubber-bands you just don't get from newspapers any more (the only other source of rubber bands I know of to this day).
It clearly said on the gun "Not for use by persons under the age of 16, DO NOT POINT AT PEOPLE". It's unfortunate, at the time I didn't understand capslock equaled a direct command (Thanks internet!) so I loaded it up eagerly and started going to town on the boxes that where being discarded as my siblings continued to open their socks and underwear with sighs.
My siblings are much younger than me, and I was a jerk of a kid.
My Brother came into my site, knowing this was a rubber-band gun, and having already been taught gun safety and allowed to roam with the .22 I was given the year before, I took aim, this was something different in my mind, this was only a rubber band gun.
Tap, tap, tap. "Screeeeeeeeeaaaaam", my brother hit the floor. Lucky for me (and him I suppose) I was about the size of my gun and it had dropped hitting him in the legs and forcing him to drop.
It was a couple of years before I got that gun back, and a couple of months till I was allowed possession of a firearm.
The next year we all got marshmallow shooters.
My Brother is one of if not my best friend... now that we are adults.
In my Tenth year on Christmas my Grandparents came over and had a box five foot in length. My grandfather gave me a wink, letting me know this was mine. I was excited as big boxes were a rarity from grandparents, they liked to give me socks and underwear, but this time is was something different (a rubber band gun if you don't know where this is headed due to the title).
We got done with dinner and I anxiously awaited the box, being forced to open the lesser presents first, each with an exasperated sense of disappointment as they were socks and under wear.
Then came the big box, I tore that thing open like a ... like a... I got nothing but it was quick and lo and behold a five M16 rubber band gun that held 25 shots at one time. It had one of those spinning wheels that allowed multiple bands and it came with a "going to hurt someone" quality of rubber-bands you just don't get from newspapers any more (the only other source of rubber bands I know of to this day).
It clearly said on the gun "Not for use by persons under the age of 16, DO NOT POINT AT PEOPLE". It's unfortunate, at the time I didn't understand capslock equaled a direct command (Thanks internet!) so I loaded it up eagerly and started going to town on the boxes that where being discarded as my siblings continued to open their socks and underwear with sighs.
My siblings are much younger than me, and I was a jerk of a kid.
My Brother came into my site, knowing this was a rubber-band gun, and having already been taught gun safety and allowed to roam with the .22 I was given the year before, I took aim, this was something different in my mind, this was only a rubber band gun.
Tap, tap, tap. "Screeeeeeeeeaaaaam", my brother hit the floor. Lucky for me (and him I suppose) I was about the size of my gun and it had dropped hitting him in the legs and forcing him to drop.
It was a couple of years before I got that gun back, and a couple of months till I was allowed possession of a firearm.
The next year we all got marshmallow shooters.
My Brother is one of if not my best friend... now that we are adults.