One of the guys in our office is a concealed carry instructor. (Remember that I live here in Colorado, the Wild Wild West.) I asked him about signing up my twenty-year-old daughter, Valerie, for a class.
"She can take the class," he told me, "but she can't get a permit until she's twenty-one. And the first thing we teach sweet little girls like her is to overcome their aversion to hurting people."
Obviously he has never met my Valerie. She has no aversion to hurting people. I can picture her in front of the judge: "Valerie," he'd say sternly, "you have to stop shooting people. You've already shot six people this month and it's only the third."
We'd have to teach her that she can't shoot people for cutting her off in traffic, for driving too slow in the left hand lane, for saying something stupid, or for using hand gestures and not their words. She's not allowed to shoot people for dissing her car, for taking the last parking spot, or for disagreeing with her.
Sigh. Maybe we should just give everyone a gun and let them shoot it out in the street like the good old days. At least then they'd have a fighting chance when they cross paths with tiny terrorists (she's five-foot-nothing-but-pure-attitude) like Valerie.
Love you, sweetie! You're the best!