Hub's Hobbies

For almost sixteen years now I've lived with, learned about and loved dear Hubs. He is a very intriguing man. And, as with any man, he has evolved over time. Circumstances and time have a way of changing us all. Hubs is not the same exact Hubs I married, to be sure. And that's not a bad thing. He's grown and matured. He really is rather lovely.
Along with many a grey hair, he's also accumulated various hobbies over the years. For instance: Wheeling and dealing. Many years ago, when he was in between jobs, he discovered he enjoys buying and selling. Along with swapping and trading. (He actually has quite a knack for it, to be perfectly honest.) We've seen many a motorcycle, dirt bike, boat, ATV, and vehicle pass through here. At first it drove me absolutely bonkers. Until I came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, making money and not losing it. Now I've just learned not to become attached to anything we own. It's all for sale. Kids included. (But not really.)
Well, as it turns out, that hobby is not quite enough for Hubs. No, siree. About three months ago I happened to notice that he spent an awful lot of time browsing guns. Talking about guns. I smiled and nodded a lot....thinking it was a new phase that would soon pass. Until he came home with this beauty...
He brought it home one day while I was making lunch, and showed her off to the family. My hands got all sticky sweaty and I had to leave the room. I did not grow up with guns, you see, so I have a rather awkward uncomfortableness around them. And, in my defense, Hubs does not have a good track record. As far as memory abilities go. This is the man who has placed the peanut butter in the fridge (more than once), loses his keys regularly, leaves his wallet in the grocery store cart, keys in the car overnight, and the list goes on. Am I the only one whom sees potential danger here? Just sayin'....
I slowly grew more comfy with the idea. And have only recently stopped asking continually where the gun is; and if it's loaded or not. I'm working my way up to touching it...and then...perhaps...one day....shooting it. Maybe. We shall see.

 Shortly after "Black Beauty" (my name for her) joined our home, her big brother soon followed. I named him "Long John". I was baffled. Confused. Kerfluffled. Just what could he do that Black Beauty couldn't? Turns out: a whole lot more damage. Besides, this one just looks "meaner".  And if that weren't enough, Hubs picked up yet another this week to add to the collection, "Black Jack".

I was still trying to wrap my mind around the first.  And the second. I wasn't aware we needed a whole arsenal of weaponry. Hubs declared himself officially prepared for any Zombie Wars that may or may not occur. I think it's just an excuse to further his new-found hobby.
 There is just no end to my discovery of that man. As soon as I think I've figured him out, he goes and finds something new to confound me. But I do so love him. (Just maybe not his guns as much. But I'm learning to.)
Heaven forbid anyone should storm these doors at midnight. I pity the fool. Locked and loaded, baby.