BB gun

Hubby was home from work on time for a family supper tonight, hurrah. Then immediately afterwards he had to rush out to buy a 'B B gun', which is a kind of air rifle thing. His plan is to use it from the balconies to take pot shots at neighbours' dogs that are, in his words, "persistent barkers". I tried to point out that everyone in this area has guard dogs, who live outside, and their job is to bark and thus deter burglers. But of course my arguments have gone unheeded. The gun looks scarily real (I know this because I was in the TA once, for about a millisecond, and it was guns just like this that made me want to cry and ultimately leave the reservists for good. That and that I was probably the most useless soldier in the history of the planet.). Hubby and Son are now practising together. I am deeply unsettled by the sight of Son with a big gun in his hands and an even bigger grin on his face. Also it brings back memories of my own father taking pot shots at cats and lining us up to practise aiming with his air rifle - the only difference is that he used to make effigies of Hitler for us to fire at (yes, really).

The whole thing is making me so unnerved that I might have to crack open the bag of chocolates that was intended for the Twins' teacher (they start foundation next week). And maybe have a beer as well. After all it will be another week until the black flip-flops are made, so there's still time for the fat-busters to work their magic...