Don’t Do It
I had told him several times to not do it. But I guess he couldn’t help himself. Tyler was living with his family in San Antonio. He was probably around 5 years old. When I would go down there to check on jobs, I’d often bring my oldest grandson back home to Bertram with me. I bought him one of the wooden rubber band guns when we left San Antonio. The revolver type, that held multiple rubber bands. Several times he pointed it at me, in a playful teasing way. Each time I’d tell him “you had better not shoot … Continue reading Don’t Do It