Some of you who know me well know that I don't really like guns. A gun's sole function is to destroy. A gun cannot create or fix something. And while I think there's nothing wrong with owning and properly using a gun (we own a few ourselves) I'd rather have nothing to do with them.
On Saturday my father-in-law called and said he just bought the new handgun he'd been eyeing for a while. He wanted to tell Joshua about it since my dear husband gets excited about that sort of thing, too. He said he was looking forward to the spring when they could get together and do some target practice.
So what was my response when I thought of Joshua going out to needlessly shoot, mangle and destroy things?
"Ooh, maybe they'll let me have a turn!"
It's the pregnancy hormones, people. They could turn the truest hippie into a gun-toting, explosion-loving, maniacal-laughing fiend. And the only antidote is chocolate. Mmm... I could go for some chocolate now.