My husband has taken the notion that I should be able to defend myself with a gun. He attempted to give me instruction last night. I am familiar with weapons from a previous incarnation, in this life, and I was pretty sure that I could manage a handgun without much effort. Wrong. I wasn’t strong enough to pull the slide back.
In talking with a dear friend, we discovered that we are similar in that we would not choose to shoot anyone in self-defense. We prefer a nice, skull cracking, cast iron frying pan as our weapon. Never mind that we’re not taller than 5′4″, or that we are opposed to brute force and violence, that we’re not as young as we used to be, and may not be as strong as we think we are. We don’t care.
I’m happy to report that I can still lift the frying pan with both hands and it glides smoothly through the air when I swing it. I could land a damaging blow from about waist level. Miscreants beware!
