BB

BB can mean a lot of things. "Breaking Bad", which is one of my favorite TV shows. Bumble bee. Beautiful Brooke. Beavis & Butthead. The options are endless. In this blog's case, BB means Breaking Butt. Somehow, someway, Z coerced his way into being the owner of a co2 charged BB gun. I'm pretty sure it's illegal for a 13 year old to own a BB gun. But in Montana, where Z is from, 4 year olds are packing BB heat.
Let's make this long and confusing story short. My soon-to-be husband got shot right in the bum. It reminds me of the scene in "Forrest Gump" where Forrest claims something "jumped up and bit me!" That "something" was later determined to be a bullet.
This whole incident though is seemingly less heroic - I don't think DyLon got shot while saving any one's life. But perhaps I'm wrong...
But I digress. My DyLonster now has a wound right on his keister. And believe you me, I ain't kissing that booboo to make it feel better.
Oh, lookey there, there's another BB word. Booboo.

I'm going to chalk this episode up as misjudgement. We all make mistakes. It happens. I make mistakes all the time. I just typically don't hurt people in the process.

And if I see that damn gun pointed in my direction, I will be covering my buns and heading for the hills.

Peace and gun control.