There we were, sitting across a square table from one another.
A platter of fun food in between us.
The whole family. In a restaurant. Having a nice time.
As is usual for us, a round-robin of non-sequitur arguments changes the course of conversation as if we were speaking in pinball.
I could tell you how we got on the subject of gun control, but it would take too long, and the bells and lights from the silver ball's awkward trajectory would be maddeningly distracting.
Let's just say Jed sprung the ball into the maze, it dinged off Silas, lit up Annabel and got stuck under my flipper, tilting the whole entire game.
Here's the gist:
"Every state should have a Department of Firearms (just like the Department of Motor Vehicles) that licenses gun owners and registers guns by class. Initial licenses would be awarded after successful completion of written, field and background tests, and renewal would require inspection (periodic background checks). Furthermore, gun owners would be required to carry liability insurance for each firearm in their possession. Let the risk pools float where they may."In other words: Let's just put our cards on the actuarial table.
"Sure, you can have that AR-15, but if you are under 25 or have teenagers at home, it is going to put you in a higher risk pool. Accident or not, you will be liable for damages."Crickets.
The conversation I thought we were having disappeared. I was left alone with my thoughts as my husband furiously typed away on his cell phone and the kids tried to guess when our meals would arrive at the table.
"You know ... I hardly ever speak to other human beings during the day ... the least you could do is humor me at dinner."
He smiled and handed me his phone:
"Thank you for contacting the White House ... ""I told them 'My wife has a brilliant idea. ...' Betcha didn't know there's an app for that."
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