My brothers and I were always allowed to have toy guns. We were taught that toys were toys and firearms were "tools" with their own purposes. The few real firearms my family had in the early years were never objectified or made to be a forbidden fruit, but to us were made to look no different than the numerous tools in Dad's garage. We were taught to use all tools with commone sense, guns included. Just like using a saw, hammer, grinder, propane torch or drill; if you were stupid with them or tried to use them the same way you used your toy ones, you or someone else could get seriously injured or killed. We were allowed to use most of the tools whenever we needed them and were to leave them alone when they weren't needed; the need for us boys to use the firearms never arose so we left them alone, even though we knew where they were kept. Their use was limited to when they were needed. The few times they were needed my parents were the ones to use them, and were otherwise kept in their rightful place.
My grandfather (who was an MP during WW2) cut out a wooden rifle on his bandsaw when I was 6 or 7... I still have it. I must admit that my grandfather was the dominant supplier to our tyke arsenal, a cabin in our front yard that he also built. It was usually well-stocked with cap pistols of all sorts and the occasional rifle, shotgun or sci-fi blaster. My first real gun was a 30-30 that I purchased from my uncle (via working for my dad) at age twelve and although fully understanding how to use it never pointed it at a living being, excepting an aggressive dog that my mother deemed a threat to my brothers and I while my father wasn't home... I safely and successfully loaded, chambered and fired the large rifle, scaring the dog off, and subsequently cleared, cleaned, and returned it to it's rightful place.
My brothers and I each have a few firearms of our own now, and even though they see fairly regular use we've never pointed them at each other despite pointing and shooting wooden, replica, finger, cap, dart, and paintball guns at each other for the entirety of our childhoods, just as we've never tried to drill each other as we did with our toy drills or smack each other with hammers as we did with our toy hammers. I also now teach and practice muzzle and trigger discipline on a regular basis on the paintball field our family runs... with mostly positive results and a few lessons learned.
My grandfather (who was an MP during WW2) cut out a wooden rifle on his bandsaw when I was 6 or 7... I still have it. I must admit that my grandfather was the dominant supplier to our tyke arsenal, a cabin in our front yard that he also built. It was usually well-stocked with cap pistols of all sorts and the occasional rifle, shotgun or sci-fi blaster. My first real gun was a 30-30 that I purchased from my uncle (via working for my dad) at age twelve and although fully understanding how to use it never pointed it at a living being, excepting an aggressive dog that my mother deemed a threat to my brothers and I while my father wasn't home... I safely and successfully loaded, chambered and fired the large rifle, scaring the dog off, and subsequently cleared, cleaned, and returned it to it's rightful place.
My brothers and I each have a few firearms of our own now, and even though they see fairly regular use we've never pointed them at each other despite pointing and shooting wooden, replica, finger, cap, dart, and paintball guns at each other for the entirety of our childhoods, just as we've never tried to drill each other as we did with our toy drills or smack each other with hammers as we did with our toy hammers. I also now teach and practice muzzle and trigger discipline on a regular basis on the paintball field our family runs... with mostly positive results and a few lessons learned.
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