My dad took me shooting for the first time around 8 or 9.
Handed me a Ruger .22 and told me to try and hit the pop bottles he’d lined up at the trash dump.
Six shots, six bottles.
You shoulda seen the look on his face when I looked up at him and said “Like that?”.
:)
How cool…and, cute. Great story and memory.
I’m not the slightest bit surprised.