I was sitting at my computer earlier today. My two year-old asked to sit with me – on my lap. It’s a little painful to have a child sitting on my lap when I have my gun in the appendix carry position. So I removed my XD and put it well out of his reach. I sat down, picked up my boy and put him on my lap. After about 30 minutes playing together on my computer it was time to go for a cheeseburger in town and pick up my daughter from school . . .
I grabbed my phone and my purse, and put my sunglasses on my head. I felt weird. I couldn’t put my finger on why. Something wasn’t right. I buckled my little man in his car seat and started to drive away from the house still not sure why I felt “off.”
Halfway down my dirt road it hit me. I wasn’t armed. I’d left my gun in a cabinet by the computer so my little boy could sit on my lap. I had two choices. One, be on time to get my daughter from school and go to lunch unarmed. Or two, be late to get my daughter from school and be armed at lunch.
I didn’t contemplate the decision long. I turned my Jeep around and went back for the gun. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the “what ifs.” Like, “what if I need the gun?” What if this is the one time, eating cheeseburgers with my kids, the one time I needed a gun and didn’t have it?
Almost immediately after grabbing it from my home and putting it on, everything felt right. The planets had realigned. I had never forgotten the gun before; I normally don’t take it off my person often until nighttime either. I was only five minutes late to get my daughter from school and I was infinitely calmer at lunch, armed, than I would have been without my gun. I would not have turned around for my phone. I did for the gun. Would you?