A couple days later I was sitting downstairs watching TV with Sam and one of the guns was on the table next to me. I picked it up to look at it and then for the first time in my life I felt the undeniable urge to shoot another person. I couldn't help myself, I HAD to shoot Sam because he was the only other person in the room. Sure, the target that came with the guns was sitting right across the room, but what fun is shooting a target when there is a real live person who can feel the sting? My aiming arm automatically aimed and I couldn't do anything about it except fire my foamy bullet right to his guts. I tried to fight it because I'm his mother, after all, but after the initial shock and confusion that his mother, who strictly forbid him to shoot other people was shooting him, he immediately hopped on board and we had a full-on gun fight. I was in a haze of adrenaline until I ran out of bullets and then it was like I was seeing Sam for the first time, crouching on the floor behind the couch in a tiny ball saying, "I don't have any bullets! Mom! I don't have any bullets! This isn't fair! You said not to shoot in the head! Mom, Please!"
Poor boy.
Needless to say, that opened the door to nonstop dangerous fun. Right at this very minute, Sam, Kira and Mitch are having a relaxed sniper fight as we watch the Simpsons. (Parenting at its best.)
Kira has the biggest gun and she's hoarding bullets. When things get hairy she takes cover behind my chair.
Sam and Mitch have the little one-shooters. I don't have a gun so I'm mainly dodging and scolding and trying to look busy and important on my computer.
Here's Mitch crouching to avoid a shot in the face from Kira. Why is it so fun to make someone do that?I know what I want for Mother's Day:
DIE! DIE! DIE!
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