Personal Narrative: Brown Daisy BB Gun
When I was a young kid, everything really fascinated me, from cool toys and how things worked and if I would be able to take them apart and put them back to gather and epically things that my dad did at the house.
I was right around the age of eight years old and always looking for danger. It was summer time in North Dakota and my friends and I always loved to go out and play army. We would set up our camps with a bunch of camo equipment and run around each other's green back yards righting each other, pretending we were in combat.
At the beginning of the summer my dad ended up buying me a brown Daisy bb gun, this really added to our real-life combat games. My friends and I would now set up pop cans around the back yards and army crawl through …show more content…
the short green grass. We then would slowly creep up on a pop can, raise our brown Daisy bb guns, aim, and then shot the pop can. This lasted us for hours in the bright sunny summer days and usually ended up in the dark cold nights of summer.
The one day in the fall when the farmers were out taking the crops off the fields and the leaves were turning brown, my dad asked me if I wanted to shot a real gun, of course I said yes. Then that day my dad went to his big black gun case and grabbed a gun which I did not see at the time. My dad then put the gun in this black gun case and set it in the back seat of his brown duramax.
My dad then yelled over to me to get in the front seat of the truck.
I got into the front seat of the truck jumping for joy on the ride out to know where as it felt.
We finally arrived to this huge black field with been steams sticking out of the ground. My dad went to the back seat of the truck and pulled out the black gun safe. He walked over to the tailgate of the truck of opened it with a loud bang.
My dad then told me to come over and he said he was going to give me a lesson on how to use a fire arm properly. We sat on the tailgate for a while with my dad going over every detail of that strange looking gun.
It was a short looking gun, it had a round handle grip on the barrel, with a rubber hand grip, and it over all just looked so strange compared to my Daisy bb gun, it also had this tiny scope on it. My dad told me that it was an AR-15. We then walked out on the dry back dirt for about 50 feet from the truck. Then my dad said wait here while I go put the coke can out there. My dad put the coke can out about 50 o so feet from me and started walking back.
He then told me to lie down and find the coke can in the scope of the gun and told me to tell him when I found it. I told him that I had found it, he then told me to slowly pull the trigger when I am ready. So that is what I did not knowing what to
expect.
The gun went bang and kicked back into my shoulder. When I looked up to my surprise I hit the coke can and the can actually exploded. Then I heard my dad say that is why guns are not toys
I was right around the age of eight years old and always looking for danger. It was summer time in North Dakota and my friends and I always loved to go out and play army. We would set up our camps with a bunch of camo equipment and run around each other's green back yards righting each other, pretending we were in combat.
At the beginning of the summer my dad ended up buying me a brown Daisy bb gun, this really added to our real-life combat games. My friends and I would now set up pop cans around the back yards and army crawl through …show more content…
the short green grass. We then would slowly creep up on a pop can, raise our brown Daisy bb guns, aim, and then shot the pop can. This lasted us for hours in the bright sunny summer days and usually ended up in the dark cold nights of summer.
The one day in the fall when the farmers were out taking the crops off the fields and the leaves were turning brown, my dad asked me if I wanted to shot a real gun, of course I said yes. Then that day my dad went to his big black gun case and grabbed a gun which I did not see at the time. My dad then put the gun in this black gun case and set it in the back seat of his brown duramax.
My dad then yelled over to me to get in the front seat of the truck.
I got into the front seat of the truck jumping for joy on the ride out to know where as it felt.
We finally arrived to this huge black field with been steams sticking out of the ground. My dad went to the back seat of the truck and pulled out the black gun safe. He walked over to the tailgate of the truck of opened it with a loud bang.
My dad then told me to come over and he said he was going to give me a lesson on how to use a fire arm properly. We sat on the tailgate for a while with my dad going over every detail of that strange looking gun.
It was a short looking gun, it had a round handle grip on the barrel, with a rubber hand grip, and it over all just looked so strange compared to my Daisy bb gun, it also had this tiny scope on it. My dad told me that it was an AR-15. We then walked out on the dry back dirt for about 50 feet from the truck. Then my dad said wait here while I go put the coke can out there. My dad put the coke can out about 50 o so feet from me and started walking back.
He then told me to lie down and find the coke can in the scope of the gun and told me to tell him when I found it. I told him that I had found it, he then told me to slowly pull the trigger when I am ready. So that is what I did not knowing what to
expect.
The gun went bang and kicked back into my shoulder. When I looked up to my surprise I hit the coke can and the can actually exploded. Then I heard my dad say that is why guns are not toys