Today, we went to parent/teacher conferences. I know, I know. It’s Sunday. What school holds parent teacher conferences on Sunday? Well a little independent Catholic school does, even though it is God’s day. He did not work on Sundays, but these poor teachers are put to work.
Today, sitting with Mrs. Susan, I became very aware how much time elementary teachers spend with children. She understands the nuances of Lizzie’s personality. Together, we laughed at Lizzie’s quirkiness. She gave wonderful, warm compliments about my other two daughters as well. Even though they are not in her classroom, she interacts with them regularly, and she is watching them all grow. The elementary school teacher’s role is awesome.
We were in conversation about the girls when Mrs. Susan said, “You are going to have three very different son-in-laws,” alluding to how different the girls are.
Tom winced at the thought of the girls ever being old enough to get married.
Mrs. Susan responded, “Or get a shotgun.”
Tom shook his head. “I had one. When Carson was first-born, we were living in an apartment. We had gone to lamaze, and I had been paying attention to all the literature that we were receiving. Everything I read talked about making sure the child’s environment was safe.”
“Absolutely!” Mrs. Susan nodded in agreement.
“Well, in college I used to go to this hunting cabin in Pennsylvania with some fraternity brothers. I had purchased a shotgun back then, and it was in the closet in Carson’s room. I decided I needed to get rid of it, so I put it in my trunk and drove it to the local police department. When I got there, I decided to leave it in my trunk; I did not know how the police would respond if I walked through the door carrying a gun.”
“Probably the right move,” I said.
“Well, when I walked in, I said to the officer at the desk, ‘Hi, I have a gun in my trunk.’
” ‘Okkkaaaaaaaaay,’ he said to me. I can only imagine what was going through his mind.
” ‘I want to turn it in. I didn’t want to just throw it away. Aren’t you supposed to bring unwanted guns to the police?’ I asked. I was trying so hard to let him know I was not a serial cop killer. I just wanted to turn in my gun.
“The officer followed me out to my car, the whole time keeping back about ten steps; the whole time, his hand was on his pistol. When I got to the trunk, I put the key in, turned it, and then, as the trunk popped open, I quickly moved back so he could see I wasn’t Ted Bundy. I didn’t want a shoot out, I just wanted to properly dispose of my shotgun.”
“What did he do?” I asked.
“He grabbed it, took a deep sigh of relief, shook my hand, and walked back into the station.”
We laughed at the thought of what was probably going through that poor officer’s head.
“The thing is,” Tom continued, “Now that the girls are getting older, I wish I had kept it.” Tom, the overly protective father that he is, will probably at some point find himself registering another shotgun. Watch out, boys– Daddy is not going to let you hurt any of his girls! (Wink, Wink!)
Life As I Understand It. 
Every time I ask Gary what he wants for Christmas, all he ever says is a shotgun! Now I get it!!!
I heard a saying that could replace the shot gun. The dad says “whatever you do to my daughter, I’ll do to you.”
I’ll pass that one on to my husband. I like it!