I’ve always known this day was coming. The day when I would have to stand aside as one of my children passed me up in some way.
That day came today.
Derek is in the middle of his hunter’s safety class and today was the big field day where they get to show their instructor how much they actually know while holding live ammo in their hands.
This is the same class I took only several years ago and I was wondering if the class instructor had recovered from that in time for my son to show up. They shove a gun in your hands and expect you to shoot a close enough pattern to kill something. I shot, but it wasn’t the pattern he was looking for.
But before I could shoot, he told me I was supposed to do it in several positions. Standing, sitting, kneeling, crouching….laying on my belly. Right there he took a good look at this Mennonite lady in a dress and excused me from that position. Thank you, instructor. He may have saved his life with that exception to his rule.
Asking me if I’ve shot before, to which I replied yes, he gives me my gun and tells me to begin. Now you have a piece of paper with circles on them and it is hanging way, way down yonder that you are supposed to aim for. Then they give you a huge pair of goggles to smash on top of your glasses and you aim. Do you know how hard it is to look not only through glasses, but smeary goggles down the long barrel of a gun to tiny dots on the other end of the horizon? Problem is, they expect you to actually hit those dots. To make people like me feel better, they tell you that even if you can’t hit them, at least make all your shots in a close pattern. That means all squished together in one place (for those of you who are blonde like me).
I will not disclose to you where all my shots ended up. That is top-secret information. You may know when I’m dead. But let’s just say the instructor never told me he wanted the clip holding the target paper left in one piece. I did let my instructor go on living, so I guess that gave me a passing grade. Although I had the vague feeling that when he handed me my hunter’s safety certificate, it was an attempt to get me out of his class and back up on my mountain where I pretty much couldn’t hurt anybody but myself.
And now to find out my son not only did well, but better than his mama can only be attributed to his awesome teacher called Daddy. Because I know it didn’t come from me.
Here are a few pictures of Derek’s big day (he is in the red shirt)…..