Best "Valentine's Day" Date EVER

I don't remember if Daddy asked me what I wanted to do for Valentine's Day or if I just offered the information, but today was the day! My guy, as I have mentioned before, has a job that keeps him out of town a lot. Sometimes holidays and special events happen that we celebrate either early or late depending on when he is home.

For us, today was our Valentine's Day. As we walked to the car, I felt excited and nervous. As we drove we talked about little every day things and just enjoyed being together. The palms of my hands began to perspire before we reached our destination. My heart seemed to beat a little faster when he told me we were only a few miles away. As we pulled in and parked, I could feel my heart beating in my chest. We were at the shooting range. 

I have fired a gun one other time in my life. I was about twelve-years-old and I was standing in my backyard that bordered an empty field. My step-dad handed me his shotgun. I don't remember what it felt like to pull the trigger, but I do remember that I landed on my bottom and fashioned a bruise on my shoulder for a short time after that day. 

As we conversed with the friendly, helpful man behind the counter, I peered over his shoulder and through the windows behind him that provided a view of the shooting lanes. I was incredibly nervous and yet able to concentrate on his every word. I paid close attention to his explanation of their procedures. We were handed the weapon of our choosing, two boxes of ammo and silhouette targets, three for two dollars. As instructed, we walked over to the first set of doors that led to our destination. We fashioned our eye and ear protection before entering the first set of doors. Open the first doors and go in. Completely shut those doors before going through the second set of doors. Walk along the wall. With each step, we got closer to lane number nine.

My guy showed me how to load the clip of the 40-calibur handgun we were going to be working with. He was wonderfully patient with me and explained each step of what to do, how to do it, and what not to do. It was my turn to shoot. The excitement slightly overpowered my nerves. I loaded the clip and put the clip into the gun. As I cocked the gun, a sudden realization of the huge responsibility I am holding in my hand is very real. In my head I am reminding myself to always point the weapon down the lane. If I so much as wanted to turn around, I was to lay the gun on the counter in front of me. 

As I raised my arms to aim at the little red bulls eye that resided in the head of the silhouette target, my arms began to shake. I did my best to steady myself. I aimed with both eyes open, not having a clue of what to expect when I pulled the trigger. Would the weapon fly out of my hands? Was I holding it tight enough? Was I holding it too tight? What I should have asked myself, or perhaps my partner was: "What do I do with my left hand?"

BOOM!

I stood there for a second, then sat the gun down and looked at my left hand. My thumb was bleeding but just a little bit. I don't know what the different parts of the gun are called, but I think the top part that slides caught my thumb and caused some very superficial scratches. I then watched Daddy and he showed me how to wrap my left hand around the bottom of the gun. Over the next hour or so, we took turns filling the clip and taking aim. Before the end of our outing I had hit three bulls eyes; one was at ten feet and the other two at fifteen feet. I was able to hit the target at twenty feet and even forty feet. 

We plan to go back the range on a regular basis to allow me time to gain skill and confidence. I think Daddy was impressed.