At Easter, as I was explaining to my five-year-old cousin why we don’t throw tantrums even when other people find more Easter eggs, and my two-year-old cousin was loudly proclaiming his enjoyment of the swing, my father came over and said, “I’m going to go shooting out back,” which meant actually he was going to go out back, shoot maybe twice, and the rest of the time just set targets and chat to my uncles. My father is a peaceful type. “Oh good!” I said quickly before I could talk myself out of it (I am afraid of guns). “I’m…
27 Comments