Today my step-son and I went to the mall. He had forgotten to get his mother a mothers day card and we picked one up.

In honor of the Million Moron March I only carried one spare magazine for the Colt automatic that I habitually have in my inside-the-waistband holster. Brandon, who has learned a bit about guns but still has a long ways to go, caught sight of the weapon as I sat down in the car.

“Hey Dave, you know that gun is cocked, right?”

“Sure.” I replied.

“Why? I mean, isn’t that dangerous?”

I looked him right in the eye and smiled as I said:

“Of course it’s dangerous! I wouldn’t wear it if it wasn’t!”