When I first met GB, I had a deep distrust of guns. I knew his favorite hobby was going out to the range and shooting around for an afternoon with his best buddy and his buddy’s girl and son. I didn’t ever think I’d be out shooting with him, that I’d allow him to keep his guns in our future house or that I’d have guns of my own in my house. And guns are so expensive; I just couldn’t see myself spending at minimum a half of a paycheck on something that just went bang. Now I own three guns: a Walther P22, a Mosin Nagant 91/30 and a Marlin 795SS. I have two holsters and two carry belts. I own my own range bag and have several sets of eyes. I’m still using the loaner ears from GB, though. What a difference just a few months makes.
Before I met GB, I never would have imagined the scene that took place in my kitchen this past Sunday. GB went upstairs to get the laundry basket. When he came downstairs again, he plunked the basket on the floor of the kitchen in front of the washer and dryer and hollered at me: “Get your gun pieces off of the washer!” I had taken apart my Mosin for some cosmoline removal the previous day. I worked on the gun in the garage, but then my mom stopped by and wanted to go shopping. I deposited my gun pieces carefully atop the washer before heading off to “ohh” and “ahhh” over clothes and trinkets with my mother. I didn’t return until after dark and ran out of time to complete cosmoline removal and so the gun pieces spent the night in the kichen to be discovered by GB.
Then, just the other day, GB came home from work expecting dinner. We have an agreement that whoever gets home first, cooks. And on that day, I got off of work a full hour and a half before he did. Plenty of time for me to come home, change clothes, relax a bit and throw together some dinner for my boyfriend, right? Wrong! GB came home hungry and over-worked to find the kitchen table decked out in an exciting, but inedible spread: my Marlin. I decided to open up my newest addition to my ever-expanding gun collection and take video and pictures of the event instead of cook. Who could blame me? Not even hungry, deprived GB did. But as I ruminate on these two experiences, I can’t believe how much my life has changed lately.