Snow and Scopes

So today has been interesting. First of all, we didn't sleep until noon... in fact, we were up before 9 AM because Dan wanted to go to the Elder's Quorum activity. They were going out of city limits to go shooting somewhere. So he bounced out of bed this morning and had breakfast. As I meandered out of the bedroom he pointed to the crack in the blinds where it doesn't meet the edge of the window and said those dreaded words:

"It snowed last night."

Laaaame. Yesterday we went to Walmart without a coat. Today it's snowing.

So I'm sitting at home watching Tom and Jerry cartoons on YouTube and doing homework (because Husband Man said that if I did homework we could both work on NaNoWriMo so I was trying to be good) and waiting for Husband Man to come home when I get a text message from him that said, "Guess what?"


I hate guessing, so I just said, "What?"
"That's not a guess, but I'll tell you anyways. I scoped myself."
"...you scoped yourself? What does that mean?"
"I put my face too close to the scope. Recoil shoved said scope into my face. I have a nice cut just above my right eyebrow. Perfect semi-circle, they said. Not stitches bad, but close. And the worst part? I missed what I was aiming for."

(Yes, that is blood running down his face.)

My goober husband smacked himself in the face with the scope of a gun.

He did go to the clinic after the guys were all done shooting, but fortunately he didn't need stitches. Whoever put the bandaids on his face did it in such a way that it saved him from stitches, and all he got was glue.


And then we went to Coldstone for ice cream.