It's Not Loaded

   Do you remember your favorite toy as a child?  Mine was a BB gun, a Daisy.  Oh how I had wished and prayed for that BB gun and the adventures it would take me on.  Finally after what seemed to be an eternity it appeared under the Christmas tree.  The years of waiting had finally ended and it was all mine.
   It was all that I had dreamed and more.  I was a pretty good shot and no tin can was safe within fifty feet.  This was exactly what little plastic army men were made for.   Line ’em up and shoot ’em down.  Soon I was off to buy more BBs.  Now I understood why I would need a job someday.  This BB habit was going to get expensive.
   About a year later we were going to visit an aunt and uncle who lived in the country.  This was going to be a great place to shoot my gun or so I thought.  Mom said “NO”!  It was too dangerous to carry the gun in the car!  I asked her how they got it home.  That didn’t help my case at all.  I insisted that the gun wasn’t loaded over and over.  Still she said, “NO”.  She said that you couldn’t be sure and that it was just too dangerous.  My dad never got into the discussion.
   The debate continued as Mom was hanging some clothes up to dry above a floor furnace in the hallway of our house.  I insisted once more that the BB gun was empty and as she turned away from me I said the words that I’ll never forget.  “I’ll prove it to you.”  With that I cocked the gun and pulled the trigger.  There's a certain sound that a BB gun makes when you fire it empty.  It didn’t make that sound at all.  It was as if I was Superman with super vision.  I saw that BB come out of the end of the barrel, and travel through the air, straight for her.  Yes, I shot my own mother in the butt.
  Things were in slow motion from here on.  I know it had to hurt but she didn’t show it or maybe I was just in shock and didn’t hear her scream.  I guess she turned to look at me and saw that there wasn’t any blood in my face.  To this day I have no idea what she said to me.  She didn’t have to say a word.  Her face said it all.  Her face told me to put that gun in the closet and not to say another word.  I’ll let you know when you can take it out.  I obeyed.  I don’t remember exactly how long the gun stayed in the closet but it was a long, long time.  I never asked to take it out.  Then one spring day she said, “ I haven’t seen you shoot your BB gun lately.”  We didn’t discuss the incident but I had learned my lesson.
   Mom’s gone now and I don’t know what ever happened to that BB gun but one just like it appeared under my Christmas tree a few years ago after I told Sandy the story.  I promised Sandy that I’d never shoot her in the butt.