Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut...

And I'll be the first to admit that I am a nut. Yes, I am a certified, bona-fide, french-fried gun nut. Not that I like french-fried guns. I'm not that far off the deep end. Anyway, about my nuttiness.

If you have been following my blog, you will know... nothing. I don't write often enough to keep anyone informed about my goings-on. But if you follow Carlene's blog, you will know that we recently completed a pre-birth class called "Bringing Baby Home." It was very much worth going to, and I really learned a lot.

In the last of the four classes, the teacher had us sit in a circle (as circular as you can get with one other couple and the teacher (I suppose it was something more akin to a triangle, really)) and talk about... stuff. Concerns about being a parent, things we were looking forward to, that kind of stuff. That was actually pretty nice, despite the moderately "Koombaya" feel the event had.

When the teacher recalled that the two pregnant women in the whatever-shape-it-was are having girls, she told a funny little anecdote. And yes, I am getting closer and closer to the point. She commented that in a previous class, all the women were having girls, and the fathers were quasi-joking that they were going to go out and buy a gun so that they would be able to protect their daughters. That incited laughter from all. Ha ha, isn't that funny!

Well, I thought it was funny, too, and I laughed along with everyone else. But I doubt that I found it funny for the same reasons that anyone else did. While everyone else was laughing about the Dad going out and buying a gun, I was laughing because I've already been thinking about buying my daughter her own gun. I realize that that may qualify me for a padded cell of my own, but so what. Just like my faith, it's something that is terribly important to me, and which I think is important to pass on.

I would really love to be able to take my daughter shooting some day and let her fall in love with it. I can already imagine the pride and love I would feel upon hearing, "Daddy, I want to go shooting, too!" That's when I'll know that she'll turn out alright. Will I be disappointed if she fails to fall head-over-heals for guns and shooting? Not too much, I hope. But I am hoping that it is something we will enjoy doing together, father and daughter. And isn't that really what it's all about?

If I feel proud at just imagining my daughter asking me to take her shooting, imagine what I'll feel when she says, "Daddy, I don't want to shoot your guns. I want my own gun." Good thing Carlene buys Kleenex at Costco.

Yes, I know, this is all a lot to hope for, and she may just as easily turn out to have a penchant for basket weaving, tightrope walking, eggplant carving, or cat juggling. But besides reading books, this is really my one hobby, the one thing I want to do with my daughter. So call me a nut (I do). I plan to be crazy about my daughter, and I want her to be crazy about me. I want to do things together that we are both crazy about. And if she isn't crazy about guns... well, I'll get over it. Because that means I'll get to do something she loves, and it might be fun to juggle tightropes, walk on eggplants, or carve cats. As long as I get to do those things with my daughter, we'll be just fine.