Last night, a friend of GB’s drove in for a visit. They haven’t seen each other in about a year and they’ve missed each other a lot. They stayed up late last night, talking and catching up. I couldn’t stay up with them because I had to get up early this morning, so I headed up to bed around 10 p.m. Before I turned in, I gave the guys a run-down of my guns so they could take them to the range with them tomorrow.

The Bersa’s out of the safe, there’s a box of mag for it in the mag dresser upstairs. The Walther, Marlin and Mosin are all in the safe. Ammo for those are upstairs as well. I only have one mag for the Bersa. Extra mags for the Walther are in its box with it. The Marlin’s extra mags are in my range bag. I figured if they’re going and I can’t, they might as well take mine with them. The more guns to shoot the better, right? I told them all goodnight and went to lay out my clothes for the next day when, GB hollered at me. “Honey!”

GB called me back from the bedroom to prove to his friend that although I just gave a run down of my collection and sounded like I’ve been a gun girl all of my life, that in fact I wasn’t gun-gung-ho until I met GB and even then he had to work me up to it first. He said to his friend, “Before she didn’t like guns, now she knows more about guns than I do.”

Aww. That’s so sweet. My baby’s bragging on me. 🙂

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