the time my boyfriend shot my dad.

[sort of]

Settle in because this is somewhat of a long story - too many golden details worthy of mention.

B and I had been dating for some time and the time had come for him to meet my dad and ask for his permission to marry me. It was such a formality, but a tradition B was set on so we made the trip to my dad's house for his birthday weekend. All was well - he was winning over the hearts of all, people were giddy, slow claps initiated [basically], until in true small-town fashion, we grabbed some guns and headed into the wilderness in the search of entertainment. We headed into the mountains for some good clean fun, and walked away traumatized for life.

To set the mood before the actual "shooting" let me just say I was a little on edge. As we made our way up the mountain my dad spent a little too much time pointing out Indian trails, and not enough time watching the road - resulting in a head on collision between the red sled (my dad's 90-something Suzuki) and an ATV with a couple of teenagers. We had made it all of  20 minutes and had already experienced the oh-so-typical, near death experience that seems accompany our family outings. Poor B. He was getting a full serving of family-crazy and I wasn't sure how he was going to handle it. I mean- we almost drove off a cliff and could have potentially killed some innocent kids. I don't know how I would have handled that if similar things didn't seem to happen every time I was with my dad. In any case- when it was established that all were alive and well, we carried on our way up the mountain.

We made it a few miles before deciding to pull over and shoot some guns while we waited for my sister to catch up on her four-wheeler.  Eventually my turn came to [reluctantly] shoot the gun, and to my father's dismay I had no idea how to cock the thing. I called for some help, and being the gent that he is, B rushed to my aid. - Only he wasn't able to cock it either. I was admittedly worried at this point because if B couldn't cock/shoot a gun- there was no way my dad would approve. Looking back- I dont' know why I thought that. B had been shooting guns for a good 15 minutes already. Anyway,  he called to my Dad and I took the opportunity to ditch the gun completely and find alternative entertainment in my 4 year old niece; that's when it happened.

My back was turned for all of ten seconds when I heard the gun go off. My first thought was Oh good- they shot it so I don't have to, but when I turned around to look the gun was on the ground. B was covering his ears, and a few steps down the road my dad was hunched over and moaning. I looked at B, we looked at my dad, and it was pretty apparent in that moment that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. We ran to him and realized, he had in fact been shot (or so it seemed). B immediately lifted my dad's shirt to check for exit wounds- there weren't any. He was bleeding - a lot, and from a number of different places. Shock set in.

We loaded up the red-sled.  My dad insisted on driving. WHAT? Yeah- I know. We didn't make it far before we intercepted my sister and her baby. Yes, people take their 18-month old babies on ATVs where I'm from. Yet another charm of small-town life. Ben and I ended up wedging my nephew between us on the four-wheeler to go get my brother (who had gone ahead earlier to take pictures) at the top of the mountain. Thankfully, my sister took the wheel of the red-sled and headed down the mountain with my hemorrhaging father.

Naturally, B was frantic. How could you not be after something like that? The poor guy kept trying to explain to me what had happened. They were both leaning over the gun, and all of the sudden the bullet chamber had locked up and, for lack of better word, exploded. I didn't really understand (and still don't),but I let him rant about anyway.  For some reason I was pretty convinced my dad would be fine - I guess because he always is. I was more concerned about B running for the hills and deleting my number forever when this was all over. Great daughter huh? The thing is- my dad is a tough guy, he has been my entire life. Hello- he tried to drive down the mountain after being shot! He was going to be fine.  I was sure of it. This went on for the entirety of our 90 minute four-wheeler ride until we finally reached cell-service.

We called my sister only to find out life-flight was on its way to the nearest hospital. Shi* just got real. Panic had finally hit. We rushed to the hospital only to find my dad in the ER... standing up, laughing. Typical. The shrapnel hadn't caused any internal bleeding- so he'd be sore, and they had to watch him for a while, but life flight was ultimately deemed unnecessary.Thank Heavens.

When we got over the initial shock of the situation  it only took a second for me to realize my entire extended family in the room. Such is the way it goes in small towns- news travels fast. I could not think of a worse way for B to meet everyone. Soon enough they started asking us questions, and once the story was out the "B doesn't  know how to shoot a gun/city boy" jokes started. Thankfully, B was a good sport about it and thankfully, we didn't scare him off that day.

So there it is- my boyfriend shot my dad [sort of] - but he survived and all is well. In all actuallity, no part of the event can be blamed on B. The chamber itself backfired because of mis-filled bullets my dad made. In the end. my dad still gave B the permission to marry me (though he was pretty doped out when he did) and nobody was terminally injured- just pretty sore, and pretty traumatized.

I tell you- my life should be a movie.

Pre-Disaster.