The Gun Counter

True story: My daughter is 19 and my son is 22. We went to the range today. I've taught them both the 4 Rules, and they've handled weapons, but it's been awhile for my daughter.

Anyway, I recently retired from the Army so I don't get a haircut every week. It's getting near time...

So, this morning I slept in. Once the kids were up and ready, we took off. Matt drove his car and Sandy rode with me. In the parking lot we're gathering the muffs and such and I asked Sandy, "So, what's Rule #1?" She paused and said, "Don't point at anything you're not ready to shoot?" I said, "No, that's not it..." Matt opens his big mouth and says, "No! It's 'Don't mention Dad's big cowlick!'"

So I put on a hat.

I'm a longneck. That's a long haired redneck for those not familiar with the species. My son suffers the indignation of my hair length with quiet disgust. He cuts his own hair weekly. A tennis ball has more fuzz than does his head.

I never dreamed that my kid would be telling ME to get a haircut. My Dad is laughing from the Great Beyond.

My dad told me he hoped I got a son just like his. Yours, too?

No, my Dad never said that but my Mom did. Several times.
But I'm lucky, he's a good guy.

I understand that kind of luck. Both my kids are good people. Matt's just a smartass, like his dad. Come to think of it, his hair was shorter than mine even before I retired. Hmmm...