sm
member
Hop…Hop…Hop…
The kids had done really well at the rim-fire range.
Ladies had dropped off the kids so they could take care of stuff without guys and kids around the house.
Some of us guys were still outside with the kids, as they wanted to police the skeet field
Not sure if picking up hulls or pulling the red wagons was the more fun, kids worked hard to pitch in and help around the private range.
The rest of the kids were cleaning the clubhouse, and the guys fixing lunch. Corndogs were on the menu today, the new stove was due to be delivered by one of the members, and earlier the BBQ set up had been repainted. Would not have made any difference, as long as we fixed corndogs, seems these were THE food and dings of a microwave the in thing.
Oh and saving the sticks to make a log house in works the kids were doing…”we have to have corndogs to finish the log house, don’t you know?”
Makes perfect sense to me…
So we are all finished up and having corndogs, chips, lemonade and pie.
“Uncle Phil”
I have the smallest kid, a little girl with the big eyes, and mustard smile looking up at me, as she returned her stick to the “stick pile”. Understand corndogs tastes better if you take the sticks out first, and then eat them…
I picked her up and sat her in my lap, her paper plate slid over to me with her food.
“Yes Darling, you okay?”
*burp*
“Yeah, ‘cuse me, Easter is coming up and is there anything we can do for mommy instead of coloring a stupid picture?’
“Yeah. Uncle Phil…”
“Anything besides making them happy wearing them stupid clothes, those stupid shoes that hurt our feet; and getting forty million trillion pictures taken?”
Funny how all of a sudden I am the only adult male in the clubhouse, I look around and the other guys are either leaning closer to hear, or staring off into space.
“Sure thing kids, we will make them eat dirt”
You get a mixture of blank stares, adult guys choking, laughter, and giggles with a lot of “huh’s” tossed in. when you suggest mom’s eating dirt.
“Okay gang, here is the deal, Me and the guys will tell the mom’s with Easter company, meals and whatever we will do a special kids night here on Thursday, so they can get something done. Now this is a big secret, but this is what we are going to do….”
“Yeah!”
Well after a couple of the adult guys cheered, the kids chimed right in too.
Thursday night gets here and the moms are just so appreciative, and overwhelmed, the normal mom instinct of something is up – is not working.
The new stove needed breaking in right, so we had the kids according to size do different tasks.
Bigger kids washed all the new clean Flower Pots we had bought. That done they assisted the smaller ones in putting jelly beans onto long toothpicks.
We mixed up a Large Amount of Chocolate Cake mix and baked the cakes. Everyone knows the best part is licking the spoons and bowls. That is why we made too much, and everyone had a bowl and spoon to lick.
We adults were having as much fun as the kids.
Charlie showed up, he had a 10 month old daughter and him and the wife had taken the cutie to get pictures made, their first and boy was he a proud daddy. Charlie told the wife he had to check on something at the office. What he did was bring the fortune cookies and a Refrigerated truck for us to use.
Besides corndogs, the kids had discovered fortune cookies, at this phase of growing up – why ask why what kids do. Call it reading skills enhancement.
Not sure how many flower pots we had to fill, put it this way, the extra folding tables had been set up and still we had to use the floor…guys do not get carried away, we just have contingency plans that far exceed any expectations is all.
Crumbled up chocolate cake looks just like dirt; you have to stick a fortune cookie in this dirt of course. Take the jelly beans on long toothpicks; add chocolate covered raisins for rabbit droppings, some off that fake grass and other candies on toothpicks…
Looks just like a flower pot with candies and decorations; except the dirt is edible with a fortune cookie to boot.
All these were put into heavy waxed cardboard boxes, inside the refrigerated truck plugged into the clubhouse.
Easter Sunday
We had strewn shot-shells, prize eggs with money, prize eggs with boxes of .22 ammo and who knows what else.
Folks were going to show up and do the clubhouse hunt, it was funny watching all them shells getting scooped up , kids then had fun using shell stackers and getting them boxed back up.
Folks showed up and that 10month old girl, got all excited, forgot she did not know how to walk, barely able to stand hugging mom's leg with one arm...then let go of mom’s hand and took off after a bunny rabbit stuffed animal we set out just for her.
She made a beeline, did the baby “plop on the butt” and snagged that stuffed doll just a hugging- then it dawned on her mom was there, she was here and …oh heck just look cute and hug the bunny.
. . Charlie was going nuts, mom was ecstatic and daughter was not all sure what all she had done, sure was getting a lot of attention, so went into hamming it up for the cameras some more.
I cannot think of a better place to take first steps than a gun club.
Then we entered the clubhouse. The mom’s were totally awed. Real impressed with the flower pots. Anyone that wanted one – got one, men, women, teenagers…everyone.
Some sneaking a jelly bean, some did not want to mess them up, instead take home.
The kids were antsy, we gave the go ahead and you should have seen the looks on faces when the kids took a spoonful of “dirt” and starting eating it.
Jaws dropped, then kids ran to moms with a spoonful of dirt, mom’s turning heads…and then
“Its Chocolate cake!” the first mom exclaimed.
I never want to hear a mom tell a kid to not poke fingers into food again, or eat with their fingers- because these moms, and then others were doing some serious poking and eating with their fingers.
There is more to responsible firearm ownership than firearms.
A clubhouse or a range facility is more than just a place to shoot.
“Uncle Phil”
There is my “remove stick before eating corndog” sweetie standing before me as I lean smug against the sink, sipping coffee.
“We got anymore wabbit droppings? Mom and I want to eat some more of them all by themselves”
Copyright 2006 – Phil Carson
The kids had done really well at the rim-fire range.
Ladies had dropped off the kids so they could take care of stuff without guys and kids around the house.
Some of us guys were still outside with the kids, as they wanted to police the skeet field
Not sure if picking up hulls or pulling the red wagons was the more fun, kids worked hard to pitch in and help around the private range.
The rest of the kids were cleaning the clubhouse, and the guys fixing lunch. Corndogs were on the menu today, the new stove was due to be delivered by one of the members, and earlier the BBQ set up had been repainted. Would not have made any difference, as long as we fixed corndogs, seems these were THE food and dings of a microwave the in thing.
Oh and saving the sticks to make a log house in works the kids were doing…”we have to have corndogs to finish the log house, don’t you know?”
Makes perfect sense to me…
So we are all finished up and having corndogs, chips, lemonade and pie.
“Uncle Phil”
I have the smallest kid, a little girl with the big eyes, and mustard smile looking up at me, as she returned her stick to the “stick pile”. Understand corndogs tastes better if you take the sticks out first, and then eat them…
I picked her up and sat her in my lap, her paper plate slid over to me with her food.
“Yes Darling, you okay?”
*burp*
“Yeah, ‘cuse me, Easter is coming up and is there anything we can do for mommy instead of coloring a stupid picture?’
“Yeah. Uncle Phil…”
“Anything besides making them happy wearing them stupid clothes, those stupid shoes that hurt our feet; and getting forty million trillion pictures taken?”
Funny how all of a sudden I am the only adult male in the clubhouse, I look around and the other guys are either leaning closer to hear, or staring off into space.
“Sure thing kids, we will make them eat dirt”
You get a mixture of blank stares, adult guys choking, laughter, and giggles with a lot of “huh’s” tossed in. when you suggest mom’s eating dirt.
“Okay gang, here is the deal, Me and the guys will tell the mom’s with Easter company, meals and whatever we will do a special kids night here on Thursday, so they can get something done. Now this is a big secret, but this is what we are going to do….”
“Yeah!”
Well after a couple of the adult guys cheered, the kids chimed right in too.
Thursday night gets here and the moms are just so appreciative, and overwhelmed, the normal mom instinct of something is up – is not working.
The new stove needed breaking in right, so we had the kids according to size do different tasks.
Bigger kids washed all the new clean Flower Pots we had bought. That done they assisted the smaller ones in putting jelly beans onto long toothpicks.
We mixed up a Large Amount of Chocolate Cake mix and baked the cakes. Everyone knows the best part is licking the spoons and bowls. That is why we made too much, and everyone had a bowl and spoon to lick.
We adults were having as much fun as the kids.
Charlie showed up, he had a 10 month old daughter and him and the wife had taken the cutie to get pictures made, their first and boy was he a proud daddy. Charlie told the wife he had to check on something at the office. What he did was bring the fortune cookies and a Refrigerated truck for us to use.
Besides corndogs, the kids had discovered fortune cookies, at this phase of growing up – why ask why what kids do. Call it reading skills enhancement.
Not sure how many flower pots we had to fill, put it this way, the extra folding tables had been set up and still we had to use the floor…guys do not get carried away, we just have contingency plans that far exceed any expectations is all.
Crumbled up chocolate cake looks just like dirt; you have to stick a fortune cookie in this dirt of course. Take the jelly beans on long toothpicks; add chocolate covered raisins for rabbit droppings, some off that fake grass and other candies on toothpicks…
Looks just like a flower pot with candies and decorations; except the dirt is edible with a fortune cookie to boot.
All these were put into heavy waxed cardboard boxes, inside the refrigerated truck plugged into the clubhouse.
Easter Sunday
We had strewn shot-shells, prize eggs with money, prize eggs with boxes of .22 ammo and who knows what else.
Folks were going to show up and do the clubhouse hunt, it was funny watching all them shells getting scooped up , kids then had fun using shell stackers and getting them boxed back up.
Folks showed up and that 10month old girl, got all excited, forgot she did not know how to walk, barely able to stand hugging mom's leg with one arm...then let go of mom’s hand and took off after a bunny rabbit stuffed animal we set out just for her.
She made a beeline, did the baby “plop on the butt” and snagged that stuffed doll just a hugging- then it dawned on her mom was there, she was here and …oh heck just look cute and hug the bunny.
. . Charlie was going nuts, mom was ecstatic and daughter was not all sure what all she had done, sure was getting a lot of attention, so went into hamming it up for the cameras some more.
I cannot think of a better place to take first steps than a gun club.
Then we entered the clubhouse. The mom’s were totally awed. Real impressed with the flower pots. Anyone that wanted one – got one, men, women, teenagers…everyone.
Some sneaking a jelly bean, some did not want to mess them up, instead take home.
The kids were antsy, we gave the go ahead and you should have seen the looks on faces when the kids took a spoonful of “dirt” and starting eating it.
Jaws dropped, then kids ran to moms with a spoonful of dirt, mom’s turning heads…and then
“Its Chocolate cake!” the first mom exclaimed.
I never want to hear a mom tell a kid to not poke fingers into food again, or eat with their fingers- because these moms, and then others were doing some serious poking and eating with their fingers.
There is more to responsible firearm ownership than firearms.
A clubhouse or a range facility is more than just a place to shoot.
“Uncle Phil”
There is my “remove stick before eating corndog” sweetie standing before me as I lean smug against the sink, sipping coffee.
“We got anymore wabbit droppings? Mom and I want to eat some more of them all by themselves”
Copyright 2006 – Phil Carson
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