Yesterday, CJ hosted a small birthday party for Katherine at Chuck E Cheese with Lucy and one of Katherine’s classmates were in attendance. I came by a little after noon to pick up Lucy for her nap.
As I was walking Lucy out, she showed me her prize – a small water pistol. “Daddy, can we go home and I shoot you with it?” (Just for the record, I do not have the writing chops to convey how cute she sounded right then.) “Sure, dear, you can shoot me.”
We got home, and she immediately jumped out of the car. “Come on Daddy! Let’s play outside!”
“Well, first we need to go in and fill up the water gun, right?”
“Yeah!” She ran to the back door, and I let her in. I put a step stool in front of the kitchen sink, and showed her how to load up the gun. “Now, don’t shoot it in the house Lucy, all right? Let’s go outside and do it.” “Ok, daddy.” She jumped down, and walked quickly to the deck door. I opened it and we walked out onto deck, and down onto the back lawn.
“Ok, Lucy, are you going to shoot me?”
She squeezed the trigger a few times, but nothing happened. “Daddy, it’s not working.”
“Here, let me see it.” I expected the trigger to just be more than her little fingers could handle, but as soon as I took the gun from her I realized something else was wrong. There was next to no water in it.
“Oh no, Lucy. Follow me.”
As we walked back in the house, my suspicions were confirmed. The gun had a leak. A bad one. All of the ammunition had dripped out of the gun on our way out of the house. In fact, there was now a nice trail of drops leading all the way back to the sink.
I cleaned up the trail of drips, refilled the gun, and held it over the sink. Sure enough, it was leaking like a sieve. “Lucy, just shoot it into the sink. And hold the gun over the sink. No! Down INTO the sink, not up at the window. NO! Don’t shoot the glasses. Here! Shoot my hand.” I held my hand down in the sink as a target. She shot me – with rather cold water – and I made some mock screaming noises.
“Hold still Daddy. This won’t hurt a bit.”