It’s time to come clean.

Ok. I’ve got few things to get off my chest regarding marriage and firearms.

Honey, I’ve been purchasing guns behind your back for the last 20 years.

The reason that I’ve never thrown out that rusty toolbox in the basement isn’t really because I can’t get a few guys to help me move it, the truth is its a safe and loaded with desiccant and pistols.

That pile of odd bits of wood and tinder next to my workshop is actually scrap wood sitting on a crate of Mosins I got on sale.

The box labeled ‘Deere Mower Parts #xxxxx’ on it in the garage…is filled with revolvers and a 1903 Springfield.

Even though you’ve managed to fit a globe on that stand in the living room, its really the tripod for a 1919a4.

The ladder to the Attic does work, I just didn’t want you and the kids in the reloading room.

Despite coming home each year with a winning shotgun from a local raffle…there have been no raffles, I still have the worst luck on the planet, but man if I don’t get lucky with some great deals!

That cricket training rifle I got for the kids for $50 at a yard sale is actually a custom Remington 700 worth near $2,000.

I’ve been dishonest about my revolvers as well when I tell you its the same gun whenever you catch me in the house with one. Honey, please don’t be pissed, but there are actually over 90.

When I told you I had a stamp collection in the downstairs safe, I wasn’t being dishonest, the reason you can’t go into that safe has nothing to do with a faulty lock, it’s because that safe is filled to the iron seams with NFA items.

That ‘Well Drilling Cessation’ tool and drill set is actually a Barrett 821A.

The giant pipe that sits between our cars, has nothing to do with the time or expense needed to replace the sewer line; its a Dutch Bronze Field Cannon. The hay wagon for the kids is actually the base for the cart.

Those metal balls are not the base for a rock wall but are instead the shot balls for the cannon.

Those rods on the second workbench are not for a pipe organ project, they are rifle barrels.

The ammo cans in the basement are actually….filled with ammo.

The hallway closet door hasn’t been stuck, the door was keyed with the lock cylinder at the baseboard. Its the ammo closet.

Home Depot doesn’t really sell sets of odd sized pipe cleaners, you’ve been using my shotgun and pistol cleaning brushes.

That antique candy dispenser that I’m to restore is actually a reloading press.

I haven’t really had a hankering for Jello or Gelatin, I’ve been making ballistics gel.

Bird watching monoculars…yeah….I’m on my 5th spotting scope.

Thanks for putting up with the misshapen sculptures I’ve been working on. The art work is horrid, but the bullet casting process is now down to a science.

This one is a win/win because we got cable and the outdoor life network
channel, but the reason the den used to get horrid reception was because those weren’t rabbit ears atop the tv set, it was my chronograph.

You can stop calling James trying to figure out how or why we took a hit
on the commodities market earlier last year, the commodities were brass and I brought a hell of a lot of it.

I know you are wondering with my bad knees how I plan on getting into Badminton, one more confession: Those are shotgun wads.

I’ve never actually attended a Regional Sales conference each January, I’ve been at the SHOT Show…its a support group. Honest.

Or is that the same thing?