Boys and their toys

This morning I stepped on a Nerf dart (from one of my boys' MANY dart guns) before I even made it two steps outside of my bedroom.  I sighed, but then smiled, thinking of my hubby. 

I have believed for a long time that the main reason this man chose both of his careers (in the Marine Corps and in Law Enforcement) was to justify and expand his gun collection.  Well, not really.  His dad is a retired Marine, and his grandfather who passed before I even met hubby was also a decorated Marine....Silver Star in WWII, I think?  And becoming a cop was hubby's childhood dream - he wanted to be out there, catching the bad guys.  I think now, years into that career, having worked in the jails, patrolled in seriously BAD areas, endless days of sitting in court to watch some jerk he arrested get off with a slap on the wrist, etc. he is finally realizing how idealistic that goal was.

But seriously, what career could possibly guarantee you the chance to play with such incredible toys?  I don't mean to make light of the weapons he uses, but his sheer enjoyment of them HAS to classify them as toys, right?  And his badge gives him the right to carry a concealed weapon anywhere (concealed carry permits are all but impossible to obtain here in CA).....though I do wish he would exercise that right a little more selectively!  Seriously, why does he need to carry his sidearm in CHURCH?  We live in a very nice small-ish city, very low crime, total suburbia.  Certainly there are times that I am glad he is armed, but we almost got asked to LEAVE Disneyland one time because he was carrying a gun and a knife.  Was he trying to protect us from terminal happiness?

And now my boys are growing up thinking this is somehow NORMAL....

We have a virtual arsenal of Nerf guns, enough to host the battle of the century on our street if any of the nighbor kids ever want to really get into it with them.  I've actually imagined the scene before, like something out of an action movie - but instead of blood all over the ground, it is piles and piles of these stupid nerf darts that I am constantly finding all over the place.  The boys know that if I find a dart lying around somewhere, it goes in the trash.

But this morning the dart I stepped on made me smile and think of hubby, so I showed some mercy and put it in the bin in the playroom.

No one saw me do it.