I was at Walmart this morning--I know, Walmart, but where else could I get both of the items I'm about to mention--and had unloaded my items onto the belt. Behind me in line was a mother with a boy and a girl in the five- to seven-year-old range. The conversation went something like this.
Little Girl: You're buying a lot of cat food. How many cats do you have?
Me: Two.
Little Girl: I have four, and a dog.
Me: I have a dog, too.
Little Boy: You're buying a lot of targets. What are they for?
Mother: People use those for shooting beebee or air-soft guns.
Little Boy: What kind do you have, beebee or air-soft?
Me: I have a real gun.
Mother: She has one that shoots bullets.
Little Boy: Will you let me use it?
Me: No, I can't.
Before I could explain that only his parent can legally let him use a gun, his mother says no, he wouldn't be able to use it.
Me: My two sons gave me the gun.
Little Boy: I'll get you a gun someday, Mom.
Spreading mayhem in the world one child in the checkout lane at a time. It's probably a good thing that I didn't respond to the "four cats" comment with "Four? That's how many guns I have."
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