Moving and Grooving 2

SO… I know I haven’t blogged in a while. But I have a REALLY GOOD, LEGITIMATE reason… JAMES IS HOME!!!!! WOO HOO!!! And well, I’ve been busy. You know how I roll.

Upon arrival (or shortly thereafter…or the next day… whatever) James informed me that he still wanted to be a police officer, and since I have been praying for God to guide James, as the leader of our family, in the direction that we should go, I agreed. While he was gone I, being the totally awesome wife that I am (his words, not mine), filled out his applications for the school and GI Bill, requested and copied all paperwork, and corresponded with the police academy leader dude. He starts on the 28^th. We have also passed the time by moving into the city to be closer to said academy. I think the kids are going through Nana and Papa withdrawal. More on that later.

Now I knew that James becoming a police officer would entail spending a significant amount of money on gear and other toys, mindless worrying on his part, and teeth clenching on mine. But seriously, it hasn’t been too bad. I mean, I brought a book with me when he insisted he had to be an hour early to his psychologist appointment (to sign off that he’s sane and all) and waited patiently for him to explain his reasoning for expensive extras, one of which was a trigger lock. Oh yes, he bought a gun. A Glock 22 or 40 or something. I dunno, it’s small and black.

“Babe I don’t like the lock that came with my gun.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you have to loop it through the loading mechanism and trigger part and by doing that it suppresses this spring mechanism and I don’t want the spring to wear down from constant suppression.”

……….

“Um, maybe that’s how it keeps it from, you know, accidentally firing or something.”

“I still don’t like it.”

So he went and bought a trigger lock, the kind that runs through the trigger part and…. locks. But was it safe enough? NO.

“I still think it could come off.”

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe I should keep it in the safe.”

“Sure.”

“But what if someone jimmies the safe?”

“Babe, you don’t even have BULLETS for it yet.”

Exactly. Story of my marriage. Running from the tornado on a clear day.