Gun Safety

When I was about 10 years old, my father had to take a pistol safety class in order to get a permit to carry a firearm. Class was in the local VFW and instructed by a friend of the family. Since there was no one available to watch me, I went with Dad and got the 'sit there and be quiet' routine. I had brought a half dozen crayons with me, but had not thought to bring paper. While the instructor gave his lesson, he picked a few sheets of paper up from the end of the 16 foot long table that was buried in handguns, and dropped them on the desk in front of me. There was something printed on one side, so I ignored it, turning the paper over and colouring on the other side.

When his lessons were concluded, he handed out the test papers from the same stack. Being an observant child, I realized that he had handed me extra tests to draw on. Out of boredom, I flipped over one of my drawings and took the test myself. When everyone had finished writing, I collected the tests for the instructor. He took a minute or two to correct them, since pnly those who passed the written test would be allowed to participate in the hands-on portion of the class.

He smiled widely as he gave the results. The highest scoring test in the room- with only a single incorrect answer- had no name on it. He interrogated his class to see who had forgotten to write their name, but this was a moot point, as the test had been filled out in crayon.