Yosemite Sam

So the other day last week as I arrived home from work, excited as I usually am, (cause who’s not excited when they’re finally off work?) I wandered into Nate’s gun room to say hello; you know, like “honey I’m home!” kind of thing. I found him sitting as his table where he often cleans/tends to his firearms. I leaned over to give him a “hi-good-to-see-you!” kiss and then began to hover, waiting for some attention. …cause I do that.

“Ahem.”

 He begins.

“You’re in my shooting range.”

A bit confused and taken aback at the lack of reciprocated excitement to see me, I look behind me and find this masterpiece.

He set up a shooting target concocted from assorted recycling pieces and was shooting from his work chair into the hallway at his target with his air-soft pellet gun. Inside the house. Within city limits.

“Oh. Well then. … Don’t mind me.” I reply.

Only in my household…