Originally posted by glowalla
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Glock vs Ruger?
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If you have a couple of 5 yr olds playing cowboys and indians and they happen to see a gun, might they try to get it--just to play with it? Drag a chair over, stand on a table, whatever, they will figure out how to get it down if they want to. And if the 5 year olds in your region of the world aren't bright or capable enough to do that, then what about 7-15 year olds who are?
Your line of thinking is how situations are created where kids shoot themselves or their friends by accident.
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That is where education about guns and gun safety comes in. It was drilled into me from the time I could walk that guns were dangerous; not toys. All guns were loaded (or should be treated as if they were). I was not allowed to have toy guns that resembled the real thing. I would have had my ass kicked for pointing a cap gun at someone.Originally posted by glowallaIf you have a couple of 5 yr olds playing cowboys and indians and they happen to see a gun, might they try to get it--just to play with it? Drag a chair over, stand on a table, whatever, they will figure out how to get it down if they want to. And if the 5 year olds in your region of the world aren't bright or capable enough to do that, then what about 7-15 year olds who are?
Your line of thinking is how situations are created where kids shoot themselves or their friends by accident.
I had a BB gun by the time I was 5 yrs old and my first real gun (a 20 ga shotgun) by the time I was 8. I kept it in my room with ammunition. I can look back and say with confidence that I was never unsafe with that gun or even my BB gun. I never pointed it at something I didn't fully intend to shoot and I never shot anything I didn't fully intend to kill. I had a friend who wanted to play cowboys and indians with our BB guns and I refused and told on him. I knew that was dangerous.
By the time I was a teenager, I had a variety of rifles, shotguns, and revolvers. I kept them all in my room on a gun rack with all the ammunition in the gunrack drawer.
It came in handy when a drunk redneck with a beef and a gun was threatening my mother in our front yard. Again, I didn't even have to fire. He looked up when I whistled and saw me aiming a rifle out my bedroom window at his head and had a hasty change of heart. And yes, it was loaded. My finger was on the trigger and I was fully prepared to kill him; I was 13.
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