His Cherokee Name Should be "Bullets Over Broadway"

Continuing with the gun/hunting theme from yesterday (and you know I love a good theme), JR had his first 4H shooting sports practice last night. Unfortunately, Jason wasn't able to take him, which left me as the designated non-shooter.

 

 

Now, you may be thinking none of this sounds like a big deal, but as I found out, JR had never actually loaded his gun.  Which left me having a "here's how you load the gun" lesson from Jason.
A lesson that may or may not have been interrupted with me running into the closet to hide when I thought a bullet might accidentally come flying out of the gun, ricochet off the wall, and kill me. But I digress.

 

 

I was so nervous about having to take JR to shooting practice and load a gun, I could hardly think of anything else yesterday. 

 I mean, asking me to load a gun (and give JR shooting tips) is like asking Jason to match Beyoncé's Super Bowl routine step-by-step. (Which is what I was actually doing during half time...just to prove to my children how "cool" I am.)

 

 

I was telling Caroline how scared I was, to which she replied, "That's awful! I can't think of anything worse!"

Thank you! I've lived with these Ingersolls so long, I was starting to think I was the weird one.

(BTW, Caroline could also perform Beyoncé's Super Bowl routine if the need arose.)

 

 

 

Turns out, the 4H kids have to do all their own loading, so when the time came for JR to practice, I basically pulled the damsel in distress act, and was able to get one of the leaders to show JR how to do it. 

And after a few minutes, JR looked like an old pro (and I got to stay out of the way).

 

 

 

JR loading his gun. (So glad it wasn't me!)

Go JR!

(Though I'm guessing there's no cheerleading at these things since you can't hear anything.)