A grandmother’s perspectiveShe was the epitome of grandmotherlyhood
A few years ago, my wife and I signed up for a gun handling class.
The motivation had to do with what we felt was necessary for personal protection (at our advancing age) and was the direct result of someone knocking on the door of our little motorhome late one night while we were "camping" in a somewhat remote park in the Olympics.
As it turned out, though the late timing was unbelievably bad, the nighttime visit was innocent enough.
Apparently, during certain seasons every ten years, census takers actually visit campgrounds because so many people are not at home to be counted and categorized to suit the government's insatiable appetite for personal information.
The late knock on the door as we were getting ready for bed bothered my wife sufficiently that she began to feel that having a dog for protection, both at home and when out in the wilds, would be a good idea.
I sure didn't cotton to the idea of having a dog of any reasonable stature in our small RV so, between the two of us, we settled on enrolling in a gun handling class with the thought of procuring a weapon to be kept close at hand in the future.
It has been a long time ago so I don't remember exactly but I think we went to a two-hour class twice a week for several weeks.
In any event, there we were... grandma and grandpa in our late 60s and learning from talented instructors. My grandma-wife was decidedly a non-violent person. She didn't even believe in lightly swatting a wayward child on the behind.
She was the epitome of grandmotherlyhood (how 'bout that for a new word?).
During this entire class the instructor kept harping on what to do in case of an unwelcome intrusion... "Shoot to stop!" "Shoot to stop!"
Over and over again in each class for the several weeks... "Shoot to stop!" was the most important theme of the class.
In other words, the intruder's torso should be the only reasonable target unless you think you are Roy Rogers and are capable of shooting a gun out of an opponent's hand. Dumb! Sooo... "Shoot to stop!"
On the final day, kind of a graduation day, the instructor went around the room of about 15 of us and asked each some leading question to see if all of his lectures had sunk in.
When he came to my grandmotherly wife he queried, "And you shoot toooo... (pause)..." whereupon my innocent-looking wife instinctively responded, "KILL!"
The class cracked up laughing.
I have never let her forget it.