My Manly Man

Brandon and Matt Talkin' Up Some Football

I walked into our bedroom the other evening after some grocery shopping, to find my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, meticulously cleaning out his rifle while simultaneously watching a football game and talking to one of his best friends, his dad, on the phone, deep into discussion about how to fill their own bullets. Needless to say, the room was teeming with testosterone. I smiled at him and told him how cute he was.
When he was done talking to his dad, I asked him how many times he was going to pull that long cloth snakey thing through the barrel of the rifle. He smiled and said, "As many times as it takes." I asked him how would he know it was clean? It looked clean to me. He said, "When it stops smoking." I watched him pull once more. I didn't see any smoke. He told me to watch more closely. I leaned in, wary of being anywhere near the thing. He pulled again, and at a certain point, he said, "There. Did you see it? A little puff of smoke." I hadn't seen a thing and told him so. I told him I thought he just like pulling that thing through his gun. He muttered something about Chelsea needing a date.
The next morning he left before I opened both eyes (I opened one eye when he kissed me) to go sight in his rifle with his dad. A couple hours later I left for a Super Saturday craft day at the church. We both had a great time.
Viva la diference.