Sunday, January 08, 2012

Phones and Pistols

Aaron has spent the entire weekend pursuing the job opportunities you all sent his way.
Thank you.  I hope we say that often enough.

Aaron was going a little stir crazy today.   He's had one thing on his mind since we landed.  Job.  He takes this husband, dad, provider gig pretty serious.  I have sweet peace a phone call is right around the corner.  Aaron has turned in umpteen job applications and resumes to companies all over the US.  Today I could tell.  This weight.  The stress.  Visible.  I could see him carrying it around.

"What can we do here tonight to lighten the mood?"  We know better than to think magic and fun have to be bought.  It's here already.  Somewhere.  It's here.  It always is.  We just have to find it.

Aaron politely excused himself from his computer screen and his never-ending job search. "I'm going to take the boys out for a little while and let them shoot a gun."

We said we were open to moving outside of Texas for a job if we must, but I've heard rumor that it's not normal in every zip code in America for people to up and decide to go outside and "shoot stuff."  Surely that's just a rumor. I also heard it snows in other states.  I'm hoping that's a myth too.  Like Big Foot.  Or a size 2 with a D cup.

For all of you gun haters, know that I kind of hate them too.
Breathe easy.  The boys shot grass.
Having a gun in sight makes my legs feel like my femurs fell out.
I watched way too much Lifetime television growing up.
I'm convinced.  Guns = tragic, accidental death.
Yet here my babies are shooting one.
Life is mysterious.

This was just the magic Aaron and the boys needed.
Maybe it was the guns.
After a shot is fired, their eyes are wild.
The boys start jumping.
Something inside their chest seems to explode.
Or maybe it was being wrapped up tight in their daddy's arms.
His voice in their ear gently teaching them how to aim.
Reminding them how to hold the gun.
It's hard to tell which did the trick.
Their daddy or the gunpowder.

 This was right before a phone started ringing in my ear.  No one would answer it.  The nerve.
I love to say the word, "Pee-stol" way more than I like shooting one.

Funny story about this pee-stol.  And when I say, "funny" what I actually mean is "terrifying."

Aaron and I were newly married.  Like brand-newly married.  I walked into our bedroom.  Saw a gun on the dresser.  I had never seen it there before.  I picked it up.  In a happy-go-lucky manner I said, "What's this?" Then I casually pulled the trigger while pointing it at Aaron.  This all happened in less than 10 seconds.  I looked at Aaron, waiting for him to answer.  I noticed he was green and not really breathing like a normal person.  He was freaked.  It's one of the few times that easy-going Aaron has raised his voice at me.  "Why did you do that?  I just brought that gun in.  I took the bullets out of that gun maybe two minutes ago and then set it there on the dresser. Why did you just SHOOT a GUN at me?" 

My brilliant response?  "Really?  It looks like a fake gun.  Like a pirate gun.  Or a cowboy gun.  This is a REAL GUN? WHAT?"  I dropped it. Or threw it.  I was terrified.

Then he said some things about not pointing guns at people.  Or shooting guns at people.  Or dropping guns. Or throwing guns.

Aaron was finally starting to look flesh-colored again.  

It took a minute for the gravity of what just happened to hit me.

"I could have totally killed you."  

Then I said I was sorry.  

Which seems like a really lame thing to say after you almost accidentally shoot someone dead, but it's all I could think to say.

Aaron grew up with guns.  He shot things.  He went hunting.  His dad taught him gun safety.  Guns were a normal part of every day life in his home.

I never had seen a gun in a house.  I was raised by a single mom who didn't make a habit of packin' heat.

I'm so glad I didn't kill my brand new husband.  He's such a terrific person, and there is no flippin' way I'm pullin' off the family band without him.

This concludes entry #842 entitled, "We are one, but we were raised two different ways."

We're praying the phone rings this week.  The real phone.  Not the one in my ear.  The one with someone on the other end saying, "By golly, you're all we've ever wanted.  All we could ever hope for.  I'm sitting here hugging your application."  Or a simple "We got your resume and would love for you to come in for an interview" will do too, I guess.

Yours Truly,
Annie Oakley


Emily said...

Ah! I'm cracking up at this one. Couldn't be more similar to my husband and I. Except I pointed it at him BEFORE we were married. (It was my introduction to his mom's family. Nice.) Except it might just have been loaded--still not sure. I walked out of the room where I was staying, having found it on the dresser, finger on the trigger, and asked, "Is this thing real?" The entire household screamed and hit the deck. I started crying. Raised differently--couldn't be more true. :-) We are praying for Aaron's job search and for your family as you cling to the one who saw all this and sees to the end of time.

Anonymous said...

Wow. I've really missed you, Heather. This was an awesome story!


Singing Pilgrim said...

I was raised more like Aaron and I started hyperventilating a little when you said you pointed a gun at him and pulled the trigger. Really. Even though you'd said it was in the past and obviously he's still alive. My heart started pounding and I thought, frantic, "WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT? DOESN'T SHE KNOW YOU NEVER, NEVER AIM AT A PERSON? AND PULLING THE TRIGGER??? HOW CAN SHE BE SURE IT'S NOT LOADED OR SOMEONE DIDN'T MISS TAKING OUT A BULLET???" All in a matter of half a second. It's instinct. Because I was raised around guns. My Dad took me out into the backyard to shoot rifles when I was a kid. I haven't touched a gun in years, but I suppose I was raised to take them very, very seriously... lol.

Glad everyone is well. Hope Aaron finds a job soon. Ryan's actually currently calling to find a job himself right now. (Like really, calling right now. He's in India, so it's midday there.)

Anonymous said...

I commute to my full time teaching gig. My husband is a stay at home dad for our almost 3 year old and 3 month old. I've followed your blog for a while, and am wondering why don't you look for a job? You're capable. Why is he putting so much pressute on himself when you could help out? I'm sure there good reasons, I'm just curious.

AmandaP said...

Even tho I'm apparently a myth (built like a short Barbie), keeping fingers crossed for Aaron. We just went thru this in September, and felt very blessed that a job offer came within 2wks.
Our household is the opposite, I grew up with guns while my other half and never handled one. His first shock was seeing my NRA card while the second shock will be coming soon since I'm finishing up my conceal carry license.

mandi said...

WHAT???? This is hilarious! YOu almost shot Aaron!?!?! My dad had guns in the house (hunting rifles) but I don't really remember learning gun safety. John is super strict about gun safety. He won't even let the kids point nerf guns at each other!
ps- John took the kids shooting yesterday too!

Thee Fire Wife said...

For the record, it's normal behavior in both SC and rural PA, too. We have skeet-shooting afternoons, groundhog hunts, and "what can we do with this expired can of beans" shooting tourneys. In case your job hunt takes you to either of those places, you'll find a place to fit there!

Molly said...

Jadore you!

thistlewoodmanor said...

I was just chatting with a friend on Facebook about how the advantage of living in a 100 year old house in the country is that you can shoot guns off your front porch, even if the plaster IS cracking in the house. I went cold and got goosebumps when you told your story about pointing the gun at Aaron. I was raised around guns too and ALWAYS assume the gun is loaded and ready to fire. Don't scare me like that!
Still praying for that perfect job for you guys.

mbs said...

Yeah, you won't be moving to Canada. Bummer, eh? We have snow and really strict firearms laws.

Maybe you could move to Buffalo. That's nice and close :) But you'd still have to like snow.

SOS867 said...

Oh, Thank you for sharing this! Horrifying, but sooo funny!! in a completely terrifying - holy cow kinda way...just turned my tears into tears of laughter. So needed the laugh.

Gail said...

Girl, put on some hearing protection! And while you're at it, put some on those kiddos as well. I've done audiograms on people with hearing loss caused by firing guns, and it ain't pretty.

Lo*ly*gag said...

Oh. My. Goodness! I grew up around guns (got my first 22 when I was eight) and my father used to have a sign on our door that read:

'This house guarded by shot-gun three nights per week…You guess which three.'

It used to take new boys that came around a little off guard when my dad would direct there eyes behind the door and Lo! There it actually was.

Aaron said...

I can't believe that no one has commented on the super sweet hat that I'm wearing in those pictures.

Well I will comment on it.

That hat is super sweet.

hoveringwaters said...

Aw, honey, I know how hard it is for the man of the house to be looking for work and still try to "feel" like the provider. When we got married my husband didn't have a job for several months while I went to work, but he applied to literally dozens each and every day. He even got on his suite and would just walk into engineering firms, shake their hands, and say "Hi, I just graduated from A&M. I have my portfolio with me. Would you give me an interview". A naturally very shy man, he was determined to provide for his brand new wife, and that is what finally snagged him the best job for him! Well, that and a ton of prayer. But yeah, our house had a tense air over it at times during the jobless weeks and months. Shooting guns sounds like a great idea! What kind of job is Aaron looking for?

Jana said...

All three of my children have received B.B Guns for their first birthday from my father in law. After I threw up a little at each birthday party I would always declare they were not to touch them until they were at least ten.

Our boys are 9,7, and 3. All of them have used their guns.

I am apparently more redneck than I thought. :)

Gail said...

Sorry, Aaron, we were too distracted by that cutie-pie kiddo you were hugging. The hat is sweet.

Riahli said...

Okay this post totally had me giggling... so funny. {In a scary/funny, happy in has a good ending, sort of way, haha!}