|
You guys might find this surprising, but I did not own a firearm of my own until I was 18 years old, after my dad had died. He never thought I needed one of my own, since his were effectively mine as well. Never locked up, easy access anytime I wanted to shoot one. He had to be with me until I was about twelve, after that I was good to go, all on my own. As long as I paid for my own ammo which, of course, I obtained by buying all on my own at the local hardware store. At first with a note from dad, but once they all knew me, that was no longer necessary.
Dad made it abundantly clear that I was responsible for every round that went down those barrels. "You can't call one back. There are no 'do overs '". Beyond that, it was clearly understood that if he ever heard of any "shenanigans" whatsoever, it was "game over".
Just how much we have given up since then truly saddens me. The sense of responsibility that served to instill in a kid, then a young man, I feel is irreplaceable by any other means.
I treated my two boys pretty much the same way. The only difference was that they were treated to their own rifles at their sixth Christmases. Single shot Chipmunk bolt guns. My now six year old granddaughter is now the proud owner of one of them, my four year old granddaughter gets the other one in two years.
|