My mother and I don't speak anymore, and one of the reasons is the story below...
My grandfather was a grocer in Seattle. My grandmother did hair in their basement. He kept an unloaded single shot .410 shottie in a drawer in the kitchen along with some shells rolling around. It had a pistol grip and a very short barrel...the whole thing was like 18 inches long. My great uncle (practically handicapped with arthritis) would use it to "hunt from the truck", but the real reason they had it was as a home defense gun. He'd say "Helen, if some ni**er comes in the back door, you just get 'Little Brother' from the drawer, and let him have it."
Now I won't defend his racist thinking, but then I don't think this line of thought was all that uncommon back in the 40's and 50's. What has always impressed me, however, was that this one item had a name. Not just something some marketing guy made up, but something he made up.
Well, eventually this thing gets passed to my parents. Of course, it's prolly illegal as hell. One might be able to keep it under a C&R license...I dunno much about them.
It's a moot point however. After a couple of burglaries in her house, my mom sold most of what she had, but she gave this gun to someone she knew. I was hurt, as I thought an item her dad had enough interest in to give a proper name ought to stay in his family tree somewhere. Anyway, it's gone now, but I'll never forget 'Little Brother'.