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Basic Fire Arms Course for Overly Determined Pregnant Women
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“Please tell me that you’re kidding me,” Nick said, unable to stop staring at the sign that very well might be the premonition of his impending death.
“Thanks for the ride!” his very excited and very pregnant wife said, practically bouncing with joy as she unbuckled her seatbelt and carefully removed the belt over her large stomach, leaned over, planted a big kiss on his stunned cheek, threw open her car door and after several valiant tries, finally managed to get out of the car with her large round stomach leading the way.
Hoping that this was a nightmare, a joke or that she was heading towards the Krispy Kreme donut shop at the end of the strip mall, but he knew that he wasn’t that lucky. A few seconds later he groaned pathetically when he saw his very pregnant wife wobble towards Lucky’s Guns and Training.
Sighing weakly, because honestly that’s all he had left in him at this point, he opened his door and reluctantly climbed out of the car, dreading every single step that was going to take him to his doom.
“Jamie,” he said, sighing heavily as he followed after his waddling wife. “You don’t have to do this.”
“It’s on the list!” she reminded him with glee that actually kind of frightened him.
“No, it’s not,” he said, because he’d checked and then double-checked the list when she’d announced this morning that he needed to hurry up and get dressed because she was going to be late for class.
Still exhausted from coming in late last night from a book conference in Boston and admittedly from making love to his very beautiful and very pregnant wife until about an hour ago, it had taken him a few minutes to make sense of what she’d been saying to him and by the time that her words hit him and he’d grabbed a copy of the “The List,” it had been too late.
She’d penciled in Firearm’s Class before he could stop her and God, how he’d wished that he managed to get his hands on all the pencils and pens before his beautiful wife had a chance to add that bullshit item that was guaranteed to get one of them killed.
Most likely him.
“This is going to be so much fun!” he heard her say as she stood in front of the double locked metal door and waited to be buzzed in while he tried to remember the last time he’d had his Will updated.
To be continued…
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